


28 Woes

by Quiet_Shadow



Series: The Woes Series [12]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Breastfeeding, Childbirth, Dragons, Dubious Consent, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Mech Preg, Mpreg, Mythology - Freeform, Pirates, Slash, Sparklings, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-01
Updated: 2014-12-28
Packaged: 2018-02-27 18:17:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 28
Words: 20,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2702555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quiet_Shadow/pseuds/Quiet_Shadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collections of Woes befalling Sentinel, following the prompts from the 28 meme challenge.</p>
<p>1. Silly - Baby Woes/Project Regen AU<br/>2. Angsty<br/>3. Excited<br/>4. Jealous<br/>5. Caring<br/>6. Obedient -Sailing Woes AU<br/>7. Daring<br/>8. Dancing - Favorite Woes AU<br/>9. Book-Reading<br/>10. Drinking Energon - Baby Woes/Project Regen AU<br/>11. Exploring - Baby Woes/Project Regen AU<br/>12. Dominant - Battlefield Woes AU<br/>13. Naive<br/>14. Greedy - Knights and Dragons AU<br/>15. Bath Time - Baby Woes/Project Regen AU<br/>16. Exhausted - Undercover Woes AU<br/>17. Playing With Kids - Heat Woes AU<br/>18. Transforming<br/>19. Naughty - Office Woes AU<br/>20. Kickass - Wetnurse Woes AU<br/>21. On The Beach - Mythology AU<br/>22. Turned-On - Mythology AU<br/>23. Disheveled - Wetnurse Woes AU<br/>24. On Vacation - AU<br/>25. On His Knees<br/>26. Well Shagged - Undercover Woes AU<br/>27. Horny<br/>28. Happy</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Silly - Baby Woes/Project Regen Files AU

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone!  
> Who here remembers the old 28 meme challenge?  
> Personally, I've fond memories of it, though I had never tried before to try it. Well, since it's December, I decided to turn it into my Christmas project for this year. From today 'til the 25th, I'll post a theme every day. Okay, there are three more, but they'll be bonus for Christmas. ;)
> 
> Be aware before you start reading that '28 Woes' will cross into several of my other Woes stories, including some which aren't published yet due to being unfinished, and one or two will count as their own AU verses. The warnings and pairings list should also give you an hint of what is coming soon on your screens. XD  
> That said, I hope you'll have as much fun discovering them than I add writing them.  
> Good reading!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a party at Lord Megatron's mansion, and of course Lugnut and Strika brings their 'Sparkling'...

**Silly - Baby Woes/Project Regen Files verse**

“My Lord Megatron,” Strika rumbled pleasantly as they entered the mansion, Lugnut on her heels, bearing their Sparkling carefully wrapped in a cover to protect him from the latest bout of rain. “Thank you for inviting us to your Solus’ Forging party.”

“Lugnut, Strika,” Megatron nodded amiably at his two loyal followers as they came in. “It’s always a pleasure,” he said smoothly.

Next to him, Ultra held Optimus protectively against him, shuffling nervously. They had been greeting ‘guests’ for the major part of a megacycle now, almost all of them Decepticons, alone or in couple, and the former Magnus was getting more and more nervous as their number increased.

The presence of a few ‘adult’ Autobots did little to sooth him, and the presence of many Sparklings seemed to unsettle him as well. So he held to Optimus as he’d hold a lifeline in what he considered to be one of the most insane cycle of his life. Optimus himself looked bored and half-asleep. Granted, having to stay in Ultra’s arms held little appeal to him, and he most likely would have prefered to be put down into the ‘playpen’ put together for the small Sparklings. He couldn’t help it; he yawned. It made the three large Decepticons focus on him immediately.

“Is that the little Prince, My Lord? He grew up so much since I last saw him!” Strika cooed with interest, ignoring her Lord’s Consort for now. Megatron had been very clear about the handling of the former Magnus; ‘don’t make him feel cornered, be courteous, and if he doesn’t look like he wants to strike a conversation aside of some polite small talk, don’t insist’. Her Lord was truly soft with the mech, for reasons undisclosed -- but it wasn’t hers to try and guess what was going on between her Lord and his Consort.

Megatron smiled with pride, and even the former Magnus allowed himself a small smile. “He did, didn’t he? Ultra takes good care of him, as you can guess. But, tell me, General, where is your own Creation? Didn’t you bring him to the party? I had been lead to believe you wanted our respective sons to have a playdate…”

“Oh, but he is here, My Lord,” Lugnut chuckled as he unwrapped the cover hiding Sentinel from view. “We weren’t about to risk his already delicate health by exposing him to the smallest drop of rain. Here he is, the little darling’,” he cooed as he subspaced the cover and presented the Sparkling-sized Prime to the Warlord and the present guests.

The reaction was instantaneous.

“Sentinel?!” the former Magnus sputtered in disbelief. In his arms, Optimus opened wide optics, little jaw dropping. Megatron just grinned.

“Such a cute little Sparkling,” he chuckled. “I really love the dress.” That did the trick; Ultra Magnus just gaped, shaking his head in disbelief. Optimus was more… vocal. Losing all pretense, he just startle to chortle and laugh hysterically, pointing a finger at his former friend, tears running down his cheeks.

Sentinel glared at him, little arms crossed over his chest. That wasn’t funny! Then he glared at his two proud ‘parents’. Stupid Decepticons! So what if he had caught a virus once? That had been several orbital cycles ago! He didn’t need to wear stupid clothes anymore! But nooooo! Of course the two damn ‘Cons would be the ‘overprotective’ sort, and of course they’d make him wear stupid clothes non-stop! Tonight was just one more humiliation in a long series.

Not only he had to wore the stupid nappy thing, since he still had leaks, but he was also forced to wear leg warmers. The dress he wore was a lace one with long puffy sleeves which fell to his little pedes and, to top it, they had forced him to wear a lace bonnet as well, one that was solidly maintained in place by a large ribbon tied under his chin. As he had wailed and kicked, they had stuffed a pacifier in his mouth, once he couldn’t get rid of and was forced to suck on with a grouchy look.

He looked so slagging silly… and he couldn’t do anything about it! He glared at Optimus again, tightening his little fists. One way or another, he was so going to make him stop laughing…


	2. Angsty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This freak isn't Elita...

It was a lie. An awful, horrible lie. That… that **thing** wasn’t Elita. **Couldn’t be** Elita. That partly organic thing who wore the Decepticon brand had nothing in common with Elita One, the sweet Autobot Cadet Sentinel had fallen for at first glance.

Elita had been petite and graceful, swift and daring, witty and sweet. She had been one of brightest, cleanest shade of yellow Sentinel had ever since -- nothing like that dull color the Bumbler in Optimus’ team spotted -- and her optics had been the nicest shade of blue. He had kissed her plump little lips more time than he cared to remember, nuzzled against the green of her cheeks like a love-sick Cyberpuppy.

There was nothing of Elita in that thing that pretended to be her. Elita was dead; it was Optimus’ fault and, deep down, he knew, it was also his, though he refused to acknowledge it aloud. Optimus was the one to blame, for stopping him from getting to her, for failing to catch her as she fell down into the pit with the exploding energon and the organic monsters.

Elita was dead. That Blackarachnia character was just a fake, something that had… hacked Elita’s records, or a Decepticon experiment gone wrong. Elita was dead; death would have been kinder than turning into an organic freak.

Elita was long dead, Sentinel repeated to himself, readying his weapons. And he wouldn’t allow anyone and anything to sully her memory. That techno-organic character needed to be dealt with, and there was only one way of doing so...


	3. Excited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A young Sentinel can't wait for the Magnus parade to start...

“Siiiire! Carrieeer! Come on! We’re going to be late!” Young Sentinel was stamping and shuffling in agitation, throwing half-exasperate looks at the couple of adults following him around at what he considered a far too slow pace. His impatience seemed to amuse his Creators, who just chuckled.

“Calm down, Sentinel,” his Sire, GoldSentry, said as he looked down fondly at his only Creation. Just looking at them, one could easily say they were related -- and not in a protoform-batch way, either. Coloring aside, Sentinel was the spitting image of his Sire, and he promised to grow just as tall and large. His chin was also more pronounced and imposing that his Creator’s own, and his waist was thinner. “The parade isn’t going to start before at least another megacycle,” he reminded his offspring.

Sentinel half-glared at him, pouting. “But it’s the Magnus, Sire! The Magnus! There’ll be plenty of people coming to see him pass by, and if we don’t hurry up, all the best places will be taken!” he insisted again for what he felt was the hundredth time.

“Your Sire is right, Sentinel,” his Carrier, Cobalt, gently chided him as she hung at her Bonded’s arm. If Sentinel took more from his Sire, he definitely had inherited the pretty femme’s coloring, as well as her optics; they were the exact same shade. “We still got plenty of time. And even if we aren’t on the first row, I’m sure your Sire will be happy to carry you on his shoulders so you can see the Magnus parade,” she smiled.

Sentinel pouted. He wanted to be at the first rank, slag it! His Creators never seemed to get it; it was Ultra Magnus they were speaking about! Ultra Magnus! THE Autobot leader! There hadn’t been a parade headed by him in over 5,000 stellar cycles -- that was older than Sentinel himself! And there probably wouldn’t be another before thousand more of stellar cycles!

One passerby chuckled at the little family unit. “Your son is a big Magnus’ fan, I take?” he asked the adult pair, who smiled at each other.

“You could say that,” GoldSentry said amiably. “You wouldn’t believe all the memophilia and toys he got about the Magnuses -- and the Autobots in general. Plushies, digital cards collections, books, spaceships models, toy Elite Guard badge and toy weapons, dolls,...”

“They’re action figures!” Sentinel snapped, blushing.

“Yes, dear,” Cobalt smiled as she patted his helm. “Our son is such a fan of the Autobots, I think he’s going to hit the recruitment office the moment he reaches the legal age to enlist,” she joked.

Sentinel blushed even more as the adults chatted amiably. Trust his Creators to think it was funny. He knew his Carrier thought it was barely a hobby and a childish endeavor, but he REALLY wanted to become an Autobot, and serve with the Elite Guard. He’ll get to the top and perhaps, someday, he’d become a Magnus too.

Then, he thought excitedly as he glanced toward the main avenue were barriers were being installed, perhaps he’d be the one heading the parade...


	4. Jealous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel doesn't like it when Elita doesn't pay attention to him...

Here he was again, Sentinel thought darkly as he watched Optimus lean closer to Elita One, both of them looking at a large bookfiles the red and blue mech had dug out from some obscure corner of Iacon’s Main Archives. Optimus just liked to go and see and search through all those old datafiles and documents for… whatever.

Usually, Sentinel thought it was a funny hobby -- Optimus often came up with amazing discoveries, full of anecdotes the other Cadets hadn’t known about. Like that copy of an annotated script for one of Windy’s first movie, when the singer had given cinematography a try. The whole thing had been hilarious, mainly because of the scribbling she put in where she was insulting the director.

Other times, Optimus found out old history manuals, or old copies of classical masterpieces he readily shared with them -- and mech, hadn’t it come in handy when they had had to work on some assignments for Kup Minor?

So, yeah… Usually, Sentinel didn’t mind so much his pal’s interest in datafiles. Usually.

But right now, with Elita laughing as Optimus recited poems aloud, stealing away the yellow femme’s attention? He felt pretty much jealous. Usually, it was with him Elita chose to hang out when they had free time, but these few last orbital cycles, he had the feeling the femme only did so reluctantly. Which… was terrifying, sort of, because Sentinel truly wanted to make things work with Elita. He wanted her at his arm in society and at his back in tough situations. He wanted… well, he wanted her!

So seeing her drop him, even for a moment, for Optimus… it stung. Biting his lips, he looked at the two tickets for Rosanna’s concert he had bought out. He had thought about offering one to her today… but finally, he thought he was going to wait until later.

Hopefully, by the time he gave it to her, she’d forget about the mere possibility to invite Optimus to go with them...


	5. Caring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jetfire doesn't feel so good, and Sentinel gets concerned.

“Jetfire?”

The orange flying mech blinked, trying to clear his blurry vision. Where was he again? He was in his quarters, was he not? He had gone to recharge… because… because… He couldn’t remember why. There was someone shaking his shoulder, someone taller than him, with big hands and with a big chin.

“Mister Sentinel Prime Sir?” he asked warily, voice heavy with statics. Ugh. He didn’t feel so good. By pure instinct, his hand fumbled around, searching for Jetstorm’s own. Where was his brother? Shouldn’t he be there too? They usually recharged cuddling into each other for warmth and comfort. But… Jetstorm wasn’t near him. Where was he? “Where be brother?” he croaked.

Blue optics narrowed. “He’s on patrol, Jetfire. And you were supposed to be on a shift yourself as of ten cycles ago, soldier,” he admonished the orange ‘bot, who groaned, taking his helm into his hands. Oh, the world was spinning…

“Mr Sentinel Prime Sir… Me not feeling so good,” he slurred. The blue optics narrowed, and Jetfire felt the mattress of his berth sink slightly as more weight was added to it. A hand that felt incredibly cool brushed against his forehelm, and he groaned.

“The fr…? Your systems are overheating! Jetfire? Jetfire, look at me,” Sentinel ordered as he gently took the chin of the young Twin in his hand. Yellow optics looked at him sleepily and blurrily, and the Prime frowned, weariness settling in his processor. It couldn’t be the result of overindulging in high grade, the Twins didn’t have the right age to drink -- and there wasn’t a drop of potent stuff to be found on the Steelhaven. “What’s wrong?” he asked as gently as he could. “Do you hurt?”

“Me processor aches,” Jetfire mumbled. “And me be feeling very tired, Mr Sentinel Prime Sir. Me optics not seems to work right, and systems feel so hot and sluggish. Me… me not feeling so good in fuel tank either,” he admitted.

Slag, Sentinel thought, though his weariness dropped slightly. Sounded like a common bug. Young ‘bots caught them often when they didn’t defrag often enough or when their firewalls didn’t get upgraded fast enough. Moments like that, he remembered that the Twins were still rather youngish. “I’m no medic, but I bet you caught a virus, Youngling,” he said as gently as he could as he let go of Jetfire’s chin and helped him settle back down on the berth. The orange twin groaned softly, throwing an arm before his optics to shield them from the light that he suddenly found too bright. “You stay here and lie still, okay? I’ll comm a medic to come and see you and I’ll cover your shift myself in the meanwhile.”

“Mr Sentinel Prime…” Jetfire started, before being shushed.

“Rest. It’s an order, soldier,” the Prime said with finality. Mentally, he made a note to also get the medic on board on Jetstorm’s case; if one Twin was sick, then there was a good chance the other would soon be too.


	6. Obedient -- Sailing Woes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Captain Lockdown get back to his obedient cabin boy...

**Obedient - Sailing Woes AU**

When Captain Lockdown entered his cabin, he couldn’t help but groan in weariness and exhaustion. He was tired, he ached and he was soaked. The storm outside gave no sign of calming down soon, sadly. However, his crew was competent, and his Second was now steering, thus allowing him to take a few well-needed megacycles of rest.

Well, rest… and some fun while he was at it, he thought, lighting up as he took sight of his cabin boy, sitting in the berth, propped up against pillows, covers up to his chin. Sentinel watched him warily, obviously awaiting his orders. Lockdown wondered for a moment why the cabin boy hadn’t already come to ‘greet’ him, but in a flash of memory, he remembered that he had ordered the younger mech to stay in the berth no matter what, unless ordered so.

The remembrance made the privateer coo. “Aww, kiddo! Were you waiting for me, you sweet thing?” he leered.

Sentinel gulped. “Of course, Sir,” he said. “I… I did all you ordered me to do and I… warmed the berth for you, as you wished,” he said, flustered and trying to hide his grimace. Lockdown laughed. He just loved how ‘shy’ and embarrassed his cabin boy kept getting over the littlest things.

“Such an obedient youth! Well, kiddo, I got other orders for you. Come and help me undress,” he ordered, moving his arms a little so the younger ‘bot could see how soaked he was. “Then I trust you can help me to… warm up,” he purred, optics shining with lust as Sentinel left the comfort of the berth and he caught sight of the blue mech’s bare valve. Forget about being tired and the storm outside; he was going to have some fun...


	7. Daring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Optimus should know it's futile to try and convince Sentinel otherwise...

“Sentinel, I insist, it’s not a good idea,” Optimus said cautiously as he watched the waiter approach their table, holding out a tray with a single drink. A drink that had the red and blue Academy student look at it with no little amount of apprehension. He could see the bubbles in the liquid from here!

His friend waved it off. “Oh, calm down Optimus, it’s just a drink. It won’t kill me!”

“Tell me that again once that stuff has corroded your fuel tank,” Optimus mumbled even as Elita, who was sitting between them, laughed.

“Always so serious, Optimus! You should learn to have some fun,” the yellow femme winked, making Optimus blush.

“She’s right you know! Come on, order one too!” Sentinel said as he grabbed his drink. Optimus watched it even more dubiously now he could see it from up close.

“I think I’ll pass, thank you,” he said as he moved slightly to the side. No way he was trying one of Maccadam’s ‘Mystery Cocktails’; whatever might have been processed down in those cubes, it certainly was not healthy for his systems. Sentinel and Elita grinned at him, even as the femme slide an arm around the large chinned mech.

“Come on, Sentinel! Show me how daring you are,” Elita chuckled even as she made a peck on her friend’s cheek.

Sentinel just grinned, raising his cube high in a toast, even as several mechs and femmes around them clapped and cheered. Closing his optics, he brought it to his lips; time to show off just how sturdy he was… and hope he wasn’t making the stupidest mistake of his life.


	8. Dancing - Favorite Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A dance lesson for 'Lady' Sentinel.

**Dancing - Favorite Woes AU**

A step to the side, a small, graceful movement of the wrist, and Sentinel delicately grasped the skirt of his dress, lifting it ever so slightly to avoid walking on the hem. As gracefully as he could, he bowed, making a reverence to an imaginary partner as the last music notes faded. Optics closed, he took a few deep intakes before straightening up and opening them, looking at his dance professor.

“So… how was it?” he asked, trying to sound as polite as possible and refraining himself from frowning or grimacing. He strongly disliked dance lessons. Or, more specifically, he disliked taking dance lessons with Lady Lugnut, Duchess of Chaar, watching his every moves and looking distrustfully at him, criticizing his smallest gestures should he find Sentinel not being ‘lady-like’ enough.

That made the Count… ess of Antilla snorts; Sentinel didn’t want to be a Lady, period! He was supposed to be a Lord, and a soldier at that! Sadly, one couldn’t refuse the King and his lusts and, by an unfortunate turn of events, Sentinel was now a ‘guest’ at the Royal Palace… a ‘Favorite’, one of the King’s Mistresses. And so the proud, dashing mech he was was forced to learn how to be a ‘proper Lady’ as to not ‘tarnish’ King Megatron’s reputation. And Lady Lugnut, Bonded of General Strika, one of the Kingdom’s best General and overseer of Lord Megatron’s Mistresses, let little slide.

For now, however, the behemoth of a mech dressed in silk and large amount of lace petticoat was looking at him with what seemed to be grudging acceptance.

“... Better. You’re starting to truly honor your position. I think a break is in order,” the teal and purple mech acknowledged. Sentinel’s Spark flared briefly in satisfaction, only to sink in as Lugnut continued. “I was told His Majesty wanted to join you for tea. I trust you will entertain him as usual? If so, I’ll make sure to free your agenda for the rest of the megacycle. Lord Megatron’s needs and desires come before any other obligation, as you well know.”

Sentinel tried not to groan. Of course it did, sadly for his valve...


	9. Book-Reading

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel has naughty readings...

_Crouching behind the overturned table, hands nervously brought before her face to stop herself from crying out in fright, Regina could only watch helplessly as Chevalier stood his ground, stopping any and all of the diabolical Ducatus’ henchmechs to reach her._

_Despite the danger, the noble femme couldn’t help but admire the sturdy, powerful frame of her bodyguard, Sparklinghood friend and lover as he beat up and killed adversary after adversary. Chevalier’s handsome face was frozen into a snarl as he shouted a battle cry and, lance in hand, charged toward the Captain ordering the small group. She couldn’t help but cry out in fright, calling out Chevalier’s name._

_She needed not to worry, for the handsome mech’s aim was swift and true, and the Captain fell to the floor, chest armor pierced through the Spark chamber, a dying cry on his lips as his body greyed. His few surviving troops took several steps back, and Chevalier snarled at them._

_“Flee, you cowards, if you do not wish to share his fate,” he said as he rose his lance again, ready to fight them off as he extended the field of his shield. “The lady Regina is under my protection; go and tell your Master that never he’ll touch her, so long my Spark beats!” The mechs scattered in all directions, fear gripping their Sparks._

_Regina’s own Spark fluttered in contentment even as she blushed deeply. To be claimed as Chevalier’s own in such a bold way made her feel so small and unworthy of his love! What could she offer to such a perfect, strong, handsome mech?_

_“Are you alright, Regina?” Chevalier asked in a gentle voice as he made his way toward her. Regina left her shelter with precaution, dusting herself off. “I hope none of those ruffians managed to put a digit on you!”_

_“They did not,” Regina assured him as she slide her arms around his neck and gently kissed him on the lips. “My shining knight protected me yet again.”_

_“I only did my duty, Regina,” Chevalier rumbled, though his hands had discarded his lance and shield to better surround the pretty femme’s waist. Regina’s cheeks took a slight red hue as they came to rest over her aft. Her Spark started to beat faster in her casing as she hugged Chevalier’s frame closer. Behind her closed codpiece, she could feel her valve start to get wet. Chevalier’s presence, his proximity, was turning her on, and she only longed to abandon herself to his arms, to his lips and to his love._

_“Chevalier,” she whispered lovingly. “Oh, Chevalier, please…”_

_The strong mech didn’t need for her to complete her sentence or to say anything more aloud. He knew her well -- and he too shared her thought and mood. He too wanted nothing more than to lose himself inside her, and to make her sweet love as they interfaced under the stars to relieve themselves from the stress of this latest fight. His interface panel slide aside, his large, thick spike already pressuring as he thought of Regina’s sweet body._

_“Regina, I…”_

“What are you reading, Sentinel?”

“Agggh!” the blue mech squeaked, flailing frantically, optics wide as he tried to hide his bookfiles from view. He couldn’t let anyone find out what he read in his spare time!

Head still hanging over the edge of the bunk berth, Optimus blinked.

What the Pit was that all about?


	10. Drinking Energon - Baby Woes/Project Regen Files AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Little 'baby' Sentinel has to get used to suckling...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally, I had written this one for the 'Greedy' prompt, before I had another idea and decided this one was good for the 'Energon Drinking' one. It might be noticeable.

**Drinking Energon - Baby Woes/Project Regen Files AU**

“Aww, isn’t our little one cute, Strika?” Lugnut cooed as he handled Sentinel securely, changing his grip just so the little Sparkling-sized mech was more comfortable while he was suckling. A tiny blue optic glared at him, but the burly ‘Con didn’t even notice, too busy looking at his glorious mate’s face and basking in her smile. The glare didn’t stop Sentinel to continue suckling, though, and he gorged himself on fuel.

He didn’t think he would ever feel comfortable about the whole thing, but at least he was now more enthusiastic about feeding than he had been in the beginning. It wasn’t like he had much choices anyway; either it was sucking out fluid out of the weird lumps on either Lugnut or Strika’s chests, or it was being handed a ‘baby-bottle’ containing the exact same fluid when he was put in ‘daycare’. He knew it was the same, because he had seen the two bulky ‘Cons extract it with a pump. Tough choice indeed. At least the one sucked directly from the ‘pouch’ thing was just warm as he liked it and it had more flavor, the tiny Prime thought distractedly.

“He is,” the large femme acknowledged as she shifted closer to her Consort and the feeding Sparkling. She couldn’t help but chuckle at the way Sentinel was grasping the pouch, or at the way his tiny lips moved as he suckled out as much energon as he could. Such a difference from the beginning. She caressed the back of his helm with one massive finger. “He has a good appetite,” she noted pleasantly. Sentinel didn’t pause to acknowledge her, and she chuckled louder. “My, I think our little one is quite greedy when it comes to his Mama’s sweet fuel,” she joked.

Sentinel almost choked. What?! Lugnut’s frame shook with laughter. “That’s a way to put it, my Love. Hopefully, he’ll learn to share with other soon enough,” he added with a glint in his optic.

Strika perked up. “Are you…?”

“Not yet, my Love,” Lugnut corrected her, and Strika deflated slightly. “However, given how hard we are working on giving him siblings, it’s only a matter of time, is it not? And in the meanwhile,” he added, “I think I have plenty enough to not only feed our greedy Sparkling --” Sentinel didn’t let go of the nub he was suckling because he was still hungry, but he very much wanted to protest: he was not greedy! “--but also to give my Consort a much welcome… erotic snack.”

Strika’s optics flashed. “Now that, Lugnut, is a most interesting and welcome proposition,” the femme said, putting a hand on Lugnut’s knee. Sentinel, still suckling, tried not to groan. Pit, not again with that scandalous display that kept waking him up from his naps!


	11. Exploring - Baby Woes/Project Regen Files AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel tries to get away...

**Exploring - Baby Woes/Project Regen Files AU**

Slowly, carefully, Sentinel crawled forward. He shot nervous looks right and left as he did so, Spark beating fast in its casing. The enemy wasn’t far, he knew that, and he also knew that at the smallest noise he made, they’d be on him before he could make a gesture. They were just too quick for him to escape them. Too quick, and too big.

The shrunken Prime smothered his annoyance at the thought. Decepticons were already far bigger than Autobots on basis, but now they had been reduced to something even smaller? There was no way they could properly fight back! It was so unfair! To top it off, Sentinel could barely walk, and was reduced to just crawl around if he wanted to be fast. Walking usually lead to tumbling around, hitting things and making noises.

And he couldn’t afford to make noises if he wanted to escape that damn place. Still looking around, he crawled toward a room he hadn’t explored before. The apartment Lugnut and Strika lived in a was big, and Sentinel had yet to be able to make out a plan, as he was kept solely in two, three rooms top. He didn’t know if he could really make it out of here, but he needed to try.

Optics narrowed under the effort, he crawled further forward… and suddenly found himself crawling in the void. He cried out in surprise and fear even as he was hugged close to a big, large frame.

“Well, well, well. Looks like someone escaped his crib again, eh? Oh, sweetie, even if you’re not tired, you mustn’t leave your crib while Lugnut is napping,” Strika shushed him. “You could injure yourself!”

Sentinel wailed louder. Slag it!

“Aww, come on, my brave little explorer,” the enormous femme cooed. “Let’s put you into your playpen; your Papa brought you new toys. I’m sure you’re going to love them,” she said as she carried Sentinel away, deeper into the apartment.


	12. Dominant - Battlefield Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel gets to top... sort of.

**Dominant - Battlefield Woes AU**

His lover moaned, panting heavily as he was grabbing to the soft mesh of the mattress. He looked very gorgeous like that, optics half-closed, mouth opened into a ‘o’ shape, head rolling to the side even as his back arched from the berth. “Ooooh, Sentinel! Oh yeeesss, yessss! Harder, sweetspark, harder,” he moaned loudly, his valve clenching hard around the Prime’s spike.

Sentinel grunted, his hands grasping the hips of his lover harder as he deepened his trusts, going as deep within as he could, to the point he could swear he was hitting the top of the other mech’s valve. He too was panting, trying very hard to make it last and not overload right away, but given the way that tight valve worked him over, squeezing him madly and trying to milk out his load of transfluid... 

“Oooooh, don’t stop, don’t stop! Faster!” came the desperate play from the mech underneath him.

“Yyy… yesss,” Sentinel groaned as he quickened his pace. The fragging was starting to turn rough now, and he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. The mech he was fragging shuddered suddenly with a cry as he reached the peak of his pleasure and overloaded. His tight valve rippled all around Sentinel’s length and with a grunt, the Prime overloaded too, his transfluid spilling deep without the gorgeous body of his lover. He fell forward with a short cry, letting his systems slowly reboot.

“Wow… Just, wow,” his lover said as he was also gathering his strengths back. He patted Sentinel’s shoulder lightly. “You’re getting better and better at it, Sentinel darling. Don’t you think you should thank me for getting you such a nice new spike?” he smirked even as Sentinel glared at him.

“I don’t think kidnapping me and holding me captive is something I should thank you for, Knock Out,” he grunted. “Though I suppose I should be thankful you removed the gag,” he added quickly, seeing the red optics of the Decepticon narrow.

Knock Out huffed. “Tss, you Autobots are never happy. You have the chance to frag me and to get Breakdown to frag you, and you’re whining about freedom. Perhaps I should report it to Breakdown,” he mentioned casually, and Sentinel blanched.

“Don’t! I’m… I’m pretty grateful you… ‘chose’ me as your side lover,” he managed to say without grimacing. “And that you gifted me with a new spike to better frag you,” he added as Knock Out made him sign to continue. “And I’m very grateful that Breakdown frag me so well in the valve,” he added, twitching. “Or that you love playing with my valve too.”

“I’m sure you are,” the red mech said as he pushed Sentinel back and sat on the edge of the berth, rubbing a cloth between his legs to erase the traces of transfluid and lubricant. “Speaking of Breakdown, he should be back next solar cycle, and I’ve been told he missed us both,” he purred. Sentinel clenched his dental plates. “You should get ready for him, little Prime. You know he likes you wet and well-stretched. And I’ve just the toy for that,” he said, winking, as he took out a false spike out of subspace and put it on the berth next to the Prime.

Sentinel watched the toy as if it had been one of Archa Seven’s arachnoid lifeform, something that made Knock Out chuckled. “Still so flustered about taking spikes? Aww, don’t worry, dearest, you know Breakdown and I will take really good care of you. Now, don’t hate me for leaving you like that, but I need to be in the Medbay in less than three cycles. Try and make sure to use that toy while I’m away, yes? I’ll be checking out if you did,” he commented warningly.

“Yeah, sure,” the Prime grumbled as the medic left. “Knock Out? Do Autobot Command finally made a deal to exchange me?”

“Not yet,” Knock Out shrugged, unconcerned. “Be nice while I’m away!” he called out, locking the door of his quarters behind him and walking away, humming merrily toward the Medbay. Nothing like a good frag to put him in a happy mood for the solar cycle. He just couldn’t fathom why Sentinel always was so grumpy about it. Tss. The mech didn’t know how to appreciate what he had. Oh, well; his loss.

Once alone, Sentinel sighed. Slagging Decepticon medic… He eyed the false spike warily before letting himself flop on the berth. He’d see about using that thing later. For now, though, he wanted to rest. Face buried into a pillow, he thought about the recent interfacing session. Knock Out wasn’t half-bad looking, for a ‘Con, and Sentinel prefered to to the spiking than taking a spike. Under other circumstances…

He sighed. If not for the chains binding his ankles and calves to the berth, he could have almost believed he indeed had been the dominant one in that frag...


	13. Naive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel may not have understood what was going on, but Longarm Prime or rather, Shockwave, was not so naive...

The odor was… awful. Sentinel couldn’t help it; he moaned. “Ugh. The Pit did they put in that drink?” he asked, gagging.

Longarm Prime paused, his own oil cube halfway to his lips as he watched his fellow Prime with concern. “Something wrong, Sentinel?” The two of them were currently seated at the bar in a small café near Fortress Maximus. It didn’t have the fame of Maccadam’s, but it was cheaper and far more discreet, with a few rooms atop the bar proper so Elite Guard members could take a nap… or something else.

Longarm Prime, Head of Autobot Intelligence, and Sentinel Prime, Second of Ultra Magnus, had definitely used said rooms for ‘something else’ before, to ‘Longarm’ great enjoyment. Of course, Sentinel being paranoid about his reputation their trysts had gradually changed location to only happen in the secure quarters of either mechs, under the cover of the night cycle. Still, they still tended to come and drink a oil cube or two together at the café when their respective schedule allowed for it. That was about the limit of their public, common appearances.

Nothing more natural than to take a drink together between colleagues, right?

‘Longarm’, or rather Shockwave didn’t mind. It still allowed him to tap that aft and break the monotony of his infiltration mission. One thing he acknowledged about Autobots was that most of them were very nice to look at. Take Agent Blurr, for example; he wouldn’t have minded bending him over for some fun. Sadly, the mech was a bit on the small size, even for Shockwave’s disguised form. To take him right, he’d need to have the smaller ‘bot outfitted with all sort of mods in order to stretch him right. So the speedster was out as a potential lover, and Shockwave had to search for mechs closer to his own disguise size. Thus why, after some pondering, he had approached Sentinel Prime.

His former ‘drill sergeant’ was rather full of himself, but he was also pleasant to look at, and he had one of the tightest valve Shockwave had had the pleasure to enjoy fragging. That’s it, when he managed to subtly coax Sentinel into taking his spike rather than spiking him. Thankfully, the Prime wasn’t so hard to manipulate and Shockwave could only chuckle at how well fragged his little Autobot was after each ‘session’.

In answer to his question, the blue mech shook his head. “There’s something wrong with the drink,” he mumbled. “It’s upsetting my sensors and my fuel tank.”

Frowning, Longarm scanned Sentinel’s cube. Had someone tempered the drink? But no; his scan came back normal; no alteration whatsoever. It was a simple, barely nutritive cube of oil, the kind one took for enjoyment rather than to truly live out of. By precaution, he took a mouthful. The taste was fine, normal, a bit too sweet for him but if it suited his berthwarmer… “It seems perfectly fine to me,” he said as he handed the cube back to Sentinel. “Perhaps your sensors are miscalibrated?”

Sentinel sighed, rubbing his stomach. “Guess so. Slag it, it’s the third types of drink that register wrong,” he sighed. “At this rate I’m never going to be able to continue taking my favorite cocktails and brands.”

“This has been going on for long?” the disguised Decepticon asked politely, drinking his own cube.

Sentinel shrugged. “Almost a decacycle. It comes and goes, just like the upset fuel tank when I wake from recharge. I’m starting to think I caught a virus and that I’ll need to pay a visit to Medical soon,” he confided almost regretfully. “I hate to see them, though. You know them; they’ll put me on leave even for the slightest scrap, and I got too much work for that! Besides, the way it comes and goes, it might solve itself soon. What do you think?”

Shockwave, frozen, looked weirdly at the Autobot Prime. Fuel tank upset by oil and energon brands he used to like… and waking up with a rolling fuel tank in the morning? That… It couldn’t be; could it? Surely, the Autobot would have noticed if he was…

Scratch that. Sentinel was a rather naive little ‘bot, the disguised Decepticon had discovered. He wasn’t even certain if he knew how to take precautions to avoid getting Sparked up! Actually, he wasn’t even sure the Prime knew interfacing could get you Sparked up! If he was, and Shockwave strongly suspected it was the case, then... He forced himself to calm down and took a thoughtful look. “Hmm, depends. Did you register or notice other symptoms?”

Sentinel shrugged. “I feel pretty tired at time, but given my workload, it’s not new. I’m also registering vague back struts pains and I dealt with several headaches these last cycles. You… you think it’s serious?” he asked worriedly to the other Prime.

Slag… “Naw,” Longarm finally said, shrugging. “It might be the exhaustion catching up to you,” he cajoled the blue mech. “That trade treaty with Odessyx you had to draft and help the Magnus and the Guilds negociate probably took more out of you than we thought.”

Sentinel started to smile. “Yeah. You’re probably right; must be it,” he said, looking reassured. Longarm’s optics looked him up and down with a strange focus, but he didn’t notice, too busy calling the barmech to order something else that wouldn’t upset his stomach.

“Say,” Shockwave said after the drink was brought, “how about you come to my apartments tonight?”

Sentinel looked doubtful even as he looked right and left to make sure no one had overheard. “I’m not sure, Longarm. I mean, since I don’t feel so well... ”

“Precisely,” the Decepticon said smoothly. “Since you so tired, you need some pampering. A good massage, a long, hot oil bath, a waxing, a good meal and perhaps some cuddling before the video screen and a classic Astoria movie?” he suggested, smiling demurely, knowing the bet was set. massage, oil bathes and a free wax were all good ways to get the blue mech’s interest.

Sentinel hummed. “Well… why not?” he said after a moment. “I’ll drop off after shift.”

“Be sure to do so,” Longarm said smoothly. Already, he was making plans for the night.

Oh, there would definitely be a hot oil bath, and a massage, and ‘cuddling’ -- ‘cuddling’ that would most certainly also involve a frag, with the blue Prime riding his spike. Convincing Sentinel wouldn’t be hard -- pun not withstanding. However, there would also be an aperitif before the meal. A drugged aperitif, to be precise -- one of the lighter ones he had in stock, for he couldn’t risk using stronger one if there was indeed a Sparkling growing into the Prime’s reproduction chamber. It’d be enough to make the Prime fall asleep so Shockwave could actually check him over and weigh down his options. There was enough material and equipment in his quarters to scan Sentinel and make sure he was indeed Carrying. Once he had the confirmation, though… 

There was no doubt Sentinel’s Sparkling was his; the blue Prime had no other lover, Shockwave had verified. There was no way he was letting the Prime abort HIS Sparkling -- and there was also no way he let any Creation of his being raised like an Autobot, undercover mission or not.

Well… he supposed he’ll need to arrange for Sentinel to ‘mysteriously disappear’ while on a leave. And to alert his extraction team to be ready to receive a precious cargo, bound, gagged and wrapped in fine, soft meshes for transport to New Kaon...


	14. Greedy - Knights and Dragons AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Knight Sentinel, it doesn't pay to be greedy and try to rob a dragon's hoard... Though the old dragon doesn't mind.

**Greedy - Knights and Dragons AU**

From his hiding place under the thick foliage of bushes, Knight Sentinel Prime of Iacon watched carefully the entry of the cavern above, in the steep flank of the mountain. Climbing there wouldn’t be easy, and he privately hoped he had brought enough cords with him. Still, if the old mech he had met in town was right… If indeed a great treasure was awaiting him in those caverns… It would totally be worth it.

A dragon hoard! A real dragon hoard! Sentinel salivated at the thought of all the richesses the beast might have had accumulated over the course of many vorns. Dragons loved treasures, it was well known. The Knight could already pictures the mountains of gold coins, the mounts of jewel, the precious gold or silver objects, the crowns, the scepters, the necklaces, bracelets and rings spilling over the floor as far as one could see.

Even with a single bag of riches… or perhaps two or three… anyway, even with only a fractions of those riches, Sentinel thought he could easily try and woo Elita One. The Noble lady wasn’t insensible to his mechly charm, but her Creators wouldn’t consider a poor suitor for their daughter. Sentinel was far from having the level of wealth necessary to ask for her hand… for now. It was just a setback he was about to correct.

The problem, he thought, was the dragon itself, who was still living in the cavern, watching over his treasury. The beast was old, but still in peak physical condition, and cunning. At least that’s why the old mech who had spoken of the hoard to Sentinel had told him.

The old bugger, despite knowing of the treasure, had never dared to try and go steal it, modestly telling Sentinel that he was too old a mech to hope escape a dragon’s notice and fury. The Knight, however, was young and so brave, so cunning, so strong… Surely, he could go and try to steal the dragon’s hoard? And, hopefully, give him a share?

A roar broke him out of his musings and he crouched lover on the floor, optics narrowed as he watched the beast making his way out of the cavern, forelegs on the narrow ledge at the entry of the grotto as he was spreading his wings wide. Sentinel had seen many dragons before, although he had never slaid one himself. This one was indeed old, if his long whiskers were of any indication. His metallic scales shone red and blue over his enormous frame. With a swiftness that left Sentinel blinking, he jumped off of the ledge and let himself fly toward the forest spreading at the bottom of the mountain.

The Knight breathed more easily. Good. Good. The beast had gone hunting. That meant he wouldn’t be back for at least three of four megacycles, according to the observations he had made. Sentinel had spend several solar cycles lying in wait to learn about the dragon’s schedule, and he felt certain he was free to act. Carefully, he crawled out from under the bushes, pulling the cords behind him. Free to act or not, he shouldn’t lost any time.

Climbing to the cavern was both harder and easier than he had thought it would be. The cords allowed him to progress easily enough, but he uneasily realized that, without them, he wouldn’t have been able to climb nearly as well. As for getting down… he was starting to realize it would be near impossible. He’ll have to be very careful on the way down, he decided as he finally reached the ledge and crawled over it.

The entry of the cavern was larger than he had first supposed. That didn’t bode well for the actual size of the beast, if he ever had to fight it… but, Sentinel mused, it also bode well for the amount of treasury he would find inside. The larger the dragon, the larger the hoard, right?

Spark beating fast in anticipation, he made his way inside, the light of the day carrying deep within the hole in the rock. Sentinel looked left and right, but was disappointed not the see the shining sparkles of jewellery and gold. There were mounds of something deeper within the cavern alright, but it didn’t shone. Surprised and feeling disappointed, Sentinel made his way toward them. Surely, there was something of values here? He reached the closest pile and, optics narrowed to have a better view, he tried to see what it was.

“What the…?!” he finally said as his jaw dropped open. With trembling fingers, he reached for the pile and took one item into his hand. He shook his head with incredulity. Was that… a false spike? Was that whole slagging cavern filled with interface toys? Was that truly the hoard of the dragon? That made no sense!

“So you finally came? I was wondering if you would; I’ve been waiting for a long time for you to make a move,” a voice purred behind him and, startled, Sentinel dropped the toy he had been holding, turning quickly to face whoever was here.

“You? What are you doing here?!” he asked, sputtering as he recognized the old mech who had told him about the hoard in the first place. He stood directly in front of the entry, as if he was trying to block the passage.

The old mech chuckled. “Such a question! But I’ve just come home to greet my… ‘guest’, of course.”

“Home?” Sentinel blinked stupidly before he felt fear grip his Spark. “You… you’re…?!”

“Very good, little Knight,” the mech grinned, showing off far too much teeth for comfort. Sentinel felt like shaking. Skinchanger! It was a freaking skinchanger dragon! He had heard of them, of course -- who hadn’t? But the species was supposed to have been long dead!

The dragon in human form stalked toward him, and Sentinel started to move, glancing nervously at the exit as the beast started to circle him.

“Thinking of leaving so soon?” the false mech asked with a mock pout. “I would think not! I didn’t even have the time to properly greet you yet!”

“Stay away, beast,” Sentinel snarled as he reached for the lance he kept in his subspace pocket… only to find it missing. His optics widened. The frag?!

“Searching for your little toy?” the whiskered mech asked amiably, holding out the stolen lance. When had he stolen it?! He brought it closer to his face, observing the deactivated weapon with interest before throwing it behind him, so far that it actually went out of the cavern… and over the ledge. Sentinel almost whimpered as his only mean of defense disappeared. “Oh, don’t be so distressed, my dear. They’re plenty of other toys for you to play with here,” the old mech said pleasantly, a grin on his lips and a strange glint in his optics.

Sentinel took a step back. “The frag do you mean?! What the Pit do you want with me?!”

“Language, young mech,” the old whiskered dragon tutted. “As to what I want? Oh, old mechs… or dragons… like me want little,” he said with a flicker of his wrist. “Good food, warmth, comfort… good company,” he added as an afterthought. “It’s been a long time since I had someone to share the pleasure and wonder of my hoard. A mate to cuddle with me, if you will,” he precised amiably.

“Mate?” Sentinel sputtered, Spark sinking. “Are you crazy?!”

“Hardly,” the old mech smiled. “Skinchangers like me just love to have loads of fun with handsome mechs and femmes. Princesses, knights… they all have such sweet, tight valves that beg to be filled,” he sighed dreamily as he reminisced of his younger years, when he had been kidnapping princesses and set them as bet to attract some good looking knights to add to his hoard. He remember how nice they had all looked, bound, legs spread wide and valves nicely stretched by several toys at once and gagged with even more false spikes, thighs stained with lubricant and transfluids he took great care of licking off…

Too bad he had had to let most of it go with time, as he was forced to flee and hide. Alpha Trion, for such was his name, knew he was a rather atypical dragon. He cared little for riches and jewelries -- although he always made sure to have some to doll up his best catches -- and instead prefered to collect interface toys and lovers/nest warmers/harems. To each his own, as he had liked to say to his fellow dragons.

Sadly, in the last few vorns, he had fallen on hard times, losing his precious harem and most of his collections after well-prepared knights had ganged up on him. Although he had escaped and managed to take most of his hoard of toys with him, the event had left him reeling and wary, and he had come to those desolate regions to hide and let time flee, waiting for an opportunity to augment his hoard once more. Thus why, whenever a gullible or greedy but good-looking Knight passed by the villages near his cavern, he tries to lure them to him.

So far, he had had no luck… until now. This mech, Sentinel, was truly a nice catch; handsome, with a nice aft that was just begging to get tapped. Something Alpha Trion had every intention to do. Still grinning, he watched as his latest treasury tried to circle past him and make a run for the exit of the cavern. He tried not to chuckle. Silly mech; did he think it would be so easy? Alpha Trion had cut away the ropes, there was no escape. The dragon was fast, he was big in his natural form, and he could fly. Entering his cavern was easy; exiting it without his say-so was near impossible.

“You won’t get away with that,” Sentinel snapped, optics darting right and left for anything he could use as a weapon. Sadly, there was only the false spikes, and he had the sinking feeling he was going to come to hate the things.

“No?” Alpha Trion asked, head tilted to the side. “Hmm, we will see, will we not?” And then he pounced over his victim, rope coiled around his wrist and ready to tie up his catch. The two of them rolled to the floor, Alpha Trion purring as he imagined the fun the two of them were going to have. His pretty little prey… and his sweet, tight little valve… needed to get better familiarized with the hoard’s content, after all.


	15. Bath Time - Baby Woes/Project Regen AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Litte Sentinel has to take a bath...

That was slagging humiliating, Sentinel thought as he looked sourly at the two large Decepticons leaning over him and cooing at him. Not only he had been shrunk to the point he wasn’t taller than one of Trypticon’s old prison drone, but he was also unable to properly walk, or talk, or even do anything by himself! He spent his solar cycles being carried right or left or crawling around in a ‘playpen’ when he wasn’t recharging, with his aft covered by white fabric that was called a ‘nappy’!

Worse, his systems were acting funny and he kept having leaks that soiled said ‘nappies’ again and again!

On the plus side, he was given regular bath. Each time he dirtied himself, each time he had a leak or just because it was soon recharge time, Lugnut and Strika, his jailers who kept referring to themselves as his ‘Daddy and Mommy’, drew him a hot bath.

On the downside… He was so little and uncoordinated in his moves that the two bulky ‘Cons washed his aft for him! Sentinel tried to groan. It was so slagging humiliating… though perhaps not as much as the two ‘Cons cooing at him and trying to make him ‘play’ with strange rubber reproductions of cyberwildlife.

“Look at the pretty Dynametal Duck, baby,” Strika cooed as she pushed the floating toy toward Sentinel, who just glared at it with all of his tiny might. “Aww, is our little baby more interested in the pretty boat?” she asked as she put another toy in the water.

Sentinel just twitched. If it was a nightmare, he hoped he was going to wake up very, very soon… preferably before it was ‘feeding time’ again and he was forced to suckle that weird pouch thing on Lugnut’s chest. Ugh.

“I don’t think our baby is in a playful mood, my Love,” Lugnut rumbled as he prepared towels to dry Sentinel up. “Perhaps we should take him out for a promenade to cheer him up? I’ve heard of a new playground opened in the next block... ”

Strika nodded. “Why not? Though we ought to dress him up before. I want my Sparkling to be both clean and presentable, after all, and I won’t have him catch another virus. Oh, it reminds me, Swindle just came back from that Earth planet with a stock of new dresses. He forwarded me a few samples, and there are the cutest things among them…” she said as she motioned for Lugnut to go search into another cabinet.

Sentinel groaned pathetically. Not one of those dress-thingy again! Please, kill him…


	16. Exhausted - Undercover Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel 'enjoys' the emergence of his Sparklings...

**Exhausted - Undercover Woes AU**

Sentinel cried out for what felt like… he had no idea. His vocalizer was so short of just short-circuiting, his throat felt hoarse from all the shouts he cried out so far, and he was feeling utterly exhausted. Bulkhead’s hand tightened around his, and the Prime turned his head toward him, half-glaring. It was all the oaf’s fault if he was in that situation. Not deterred by the glare, the green mech gently pressed a kiss to the Prime’s forehead, his lips components instantly drenched by the condensation on Sentinel’s body.

“It’s alright, Sentinel. You’re doing great. Our little ones will be here soon,” he crooned softly in encouragement.

“You… you had… said that… one megacycle ago,” Sentinel groaned as another contraction run through him. “Slag it!” he keened as he felt more fluid gush out of his valve.

Labor had started almost two megacycles ago, quite unexpectedly. He had been preparing lunch when he had felt his panties getting drenched, even as his back struts started to hurt. In a panic, he had called Bulkhead, who had immediately carried him over to their berthroom while frantically comming Ratchet and the rest of his team to inform them on the situation and saying he couldn’t come to work on the Space Bridge today. In turn, Ratchet had arrived, followed by Optimus with a couple of Enduras in tow to see if they could ‘help’. They had invested Shady Acres’ kitchen area to prepare snack for the medic and the happy Creators, and Sentinel could hear them downstairs, chatting and praying aloud for Sentinel’s ‘safe delivery’.

As for the Prime, well… Here he was, his dress removed, legs spread wide and bend at the knees, with that crotchety old medic Ratchet looking at his bare valve and checking him over from time to time, while Optimus, standing as ‘nurse’, came in and out bringing clean towels and other stuffs.

Another contraction hit him, and Sentinel just moaned. “Why is it so long?” he bemoaned. “Apis didn’t…”

“Apis,” Ratchet pointed out reasonably as he checked the dilatation of Sentinel’s valve, “is a long time Carrier who was on her fifth Sparkling, from what I have been told. Her body knows how to adapt and deal with the process. That’s your first emergence, Sentinel, it’s normal it takes more time. Your body is learning the process,” he said soothingly. “Besides, you’re having twins; it takes more time for them to get into the right position and drop into the birthing passage.”

“Won… wonderful,” the Prime groaned, another wave of pain going through him. “Can’t… can’t we speed it up somehow? I don’t think I can’t take it for much longer,” he begged.

Ratchet just shook his head. “No, we can’t. But be reassured, it won’t be long now. Your valve is perfectly dilated, and the increasing of the contractions mean they are ready to move down. A last effort, and you’ll have your Sparklings in your arms,” he tried to cheer up the Prime, who just groaned.

Despite Ratchet’s reassurances, Bulkhead’s soft encouragements and praises and Optimus’ occasional gentle pats and niceties, it still took almost the rest of the afternoon for the two Sparklings to emerge. Sentinel cried out one last time as he felt the second Sparkling slip out of his overstretched valve and he fell backward on the cushions and pillows that had been propped up behind him for comfort.

He was exhausted, hungry, and on the point of dropping into stasis… recharge… whatever came first. Little cries, kinda like the mewls of Cybercats, filled the air as he looked at the ceiling, vision blurry. Bulkhead’s hand was still tight around his own.

“Two little mechs, Sentinel,” the green mech said with pride and love. “They’re so cute! Wow, they look so much like you!”

“They do,” Ratchet said grumpily, “and if you would move, I think they’d like to feed. Little tykes are angry and in need of their Carrier’s presence. Sentinel? You can open your chestplates?” he asked more gently, appearing into before Sentinel’s optics with a bundle wrapped into white mesh in his arms. The Prime, blinked and, in his exhaustion, had to process the order several times before nodding and unlocking them, letting his pouches fill with energon. Damn things were about to be useful, weren’t they?

Carefully, Ratchet put the white bundle over his left pouches. Emerging from the white fabric, the Sparkling’s small helm turned, optics half closed, until it reached the nub. His little mouth closed over it and he started to suckle eagerly. By reflex, Sentinel’s arm went to steady him to he wouldn’t accidentally roll out. From the corner of his optics, he saw Optimus approach, carrying a second bundle, this one wrapped in grey.

“They’re adorable,” his fellow Prime said as he carefully deposited his precious cargo over Sentinel’s right pouch. Like his brother, the Sparkling immediately attached himself to the nub and started to suckle, optics half-closed and looked happy. Bulkhead let go of Sentinel’s hand so the Prime could better grab and maintain the infant. “Congratulation, Sentinel. How are you going to name them? Any idea, Bulkhead?”

The green mech rubbed the back of his helm. “Well, we never truly discussed about it so far, and…”

Sentinel turned out the rest of the conversation, too exhausted to truly care. Instead, he looked carefully at the two little things that had come out of him. Bulkhead was right, their faces looked a lot like his -- though their chins were much tinier. One also had a more round jaw, while the other was more round looking in general. From the little he could see through the mesh, one was green like his Sire, albeit a darker shade that Sentinel found more attractive, with an orange stripe on his helm. The other was grey, with dark blue stripes and highlines and little helmfins like his Carrier.

Watching them, Sentinel felt a twinge of… something in his Spark, but he was too tired to care about what it was.

“Vanguard,” he mumbled as he looked at the green one. “Crusader,” he mumbled again as he looked at the grey one.

“Sentinel? You said something, Love?” Bulkhead asked gently, leaning over his Endura and newborn Sparklings, smiling down at them.

“Vanguard and Crusader. And now I want to recharge,” Sentinel grumbled.

And he did just that.


	17. Playing with Kids - Heat Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel has to spend time with his offsprings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To all those who wondered how many kids Seeker!Sentinel got at the end of Heat Woes, here's your answer XD

**Playing with Kids - Heat Woes AU**

Some solar cycles, getting out of berth wasn’t worth it, Sentinel decided. Especially when all the Sparklings were here and he was the only mech around to watch over them. Tss. You would have expected Optimus, Ratchet or Bulkhead to take more days off to deal with their brood, but nooo! What they were working on was too important! They couldn’t afford to leave their so-important-jobs to help relieve Sentinel from the pressure of watching nine Sparklings, most of them being little troublemakers in the making.

Slagging Seeker altmode; if he had know about the heat thing, the eggs, and then just how soon some Sparklings of the flying kind learned to crawl, run and worse, transform.

“Lunaria, get back here!” he yelled at the UFO, who was running far before everyone. Daring as she was, the Prime feared she’d get hit by a speeding mech in altmode. He turned next to the twins flyers who had emerged from the same egg. Sure enough, they were trying to bully one of their smaller sibling again. Granted, it was Tailwind, and Tailwind spent his time antagonizing them.

“Nuage, Orage, get away from Tailwind immediately! I don’t care if he stole your oil cake, that’s no reason to hit him! Starquake, don’t go so high! Your systems aren’t ready for that!”

Sentinel groaned as Skyquake just shrieked in delight as he flew in circles above him. Of course the little shuttle would discover his transformation sequence before any of his siblings. And of course he’d rub that over them and try to fly off at the earliest convenience. The Prime sighed, mentally counting to ten to calm down.

He felt someone tug on his hand, and he dropped his gaze to look at the small form of Whiteout. The little white and red mech was looking at him with big optics, and Sentinel felt his Spark soothing slightly. Whiteout, like Aurora and Sunspot, was one of the calmest of the bunch. “Yes, Whiteout?” he asked, kneeling to look at the Sparkling in the optics.

The little flyer shuffled. “Carrier? We’re near the toy store. Can we go? Pleeeeaassse?”

Sentinel winced. Calmer, yes, but certainly more manipulative. “I… I don’t know, sweetie,” he said hesitantly. Taking the Sparklings anywhere was always a trial, especially if it was a store where they all run in different directions. Last time he made the mistake of taking them in a toy store, he had ended up running after them for a whole megacycle in order to regroup them.

“Oh, please Carrier!” Aurora chirped, tugging on his other hand. “Pretty please? We’d like it so much!”

And of course Aurora would join in. And of course the rest of them followed suit. Sentinel just took his head into his hand. “Kids,” he started.

“Carrier?” Sentinel looked down at Whiffle, the smallest and cutest of the Sparkling. He looked a lot like Optimus, this one, from the coloring to the distinctive lips. “It’s… it’s not just about toys, you know? It’s about spending time with you too,” he said, hugging Sentinel’s leg. The Prime’s wings twitched. “Please? We promise we stay with you? We just want balls and board games and stuff so you can play with us at home? With you and with Sires?”

Sentinel winced. Oh frag… What was he supposed to answer to that? Okay, the Sparklings were troublemakers, and sometimes they drove him crazy… but they also adored him and he couldn’t help but love them in turn… when they were nice and quiet. When they were, then he didn’t mind reading them a story or playing a game with them. He half-glared at Whiffle before sighing. Forget about Whiteout being a manipulator; Whiffle was beating him by far.

“Okay, okay, we’ll get to the toy store. And,” he added, having a sudden idea that might buy him quiet and peace, “if you’re really nice and quiet in the store, then we’ll go eat an Energon-Ice cream. Alright?”

The cheers that answered him and the hugs he received were almost worth the headache he knew he’ll have by the end of the day. Almost.


	18. Transforming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Cadets do stupid thing, Kup Minor isn't impressed...

“That’s your fault,” Sentinel grumbled toward Optimus, who was just next to him in the line. “Why did you have to shoot in that direction?!”

The other mech glared. “My fault? It’s your fault, yes! It’s you who told me to shoot!”

“Yeah, but not at the drill sergeant!” Sentinel snapped.

“I didn’t shoot at the drill sergeant,” Optimus protested. “I shout at the target next to him!”

“Right, and you aim was so off that you cut off his cy-gar from his mouth,” Sentinel snorted.

“You can speak,” Optimus grunted. “You’re the one who threw that grenade over the edge and out of the training area!”

“Hey, I couldn’t know they had stored boxes of supplies here,” Sentinel defended himself. “Including the Sarge’s stock of cy-gars,” he winced, remembering exactly why they were being punished.

“It’s both your fault,” Elita cut in with a grunt. “And if you don’t both shut up and continue your transform-ups, I swear I’m going to hit you both!” The look on her face was incredibly murderous, and both mech Cadets wisely decided to keep it quiet and continue their punishment.

Kup Minor stalked before their group, arms crossed being his back, dental plates clenched hard around the stump of his cy-gar. “That’s right, you little oil stains! Shut up and continue! By the way, thank to your little comrades with a running vocalizer, that’ll be forty more transform-ups!”

The whole line of Cadets just groaned, and both Sentinel and Optimus felt a shudder go down their back struts as glares were headed their way. Tonight in the barracks wasn’t going to be fun… Especially with Elita ticked off at them as well.


	19. Naughty - Office Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel still has to deal with the stupid organic coverages, to Ultra Magnus' greatest joy...

Sighing, Sentinel Minor rummaged through the closet, searching for the items he would need in order to… ‘dress up’ and feed the Magnus’ lusts and fantasies.

Seriously, for a mech so aged and still recovering from his injuries, he still had energy to spare, sadly for the Minor. He wondered why the medics hadn’t yet decided he could do without an auxiliary to check on his health yet; surely, but this point, the Magnus had recovered enough that he didn’t need someone to stay at home with him?

Of course, even if he was ‘released’ from this particular duty, he’d still have to deal with the horny Magnus at work, but at work, at least there also was Optimus, who could divert some of their superior’s… attentions.

A ping hit his systems, and he shook his head to clear his thoughts. Time to put on something… nice. Something… naughty looking. Not that he particularly wanted to look ‘naughty’, but the Magnus liked that, and he was more… excited when Sentinel did. Naughty usually meant longer interface sessions, but it also meant more freedom once it was over. If he managed to tire the mech now, Sentinel reasoned, then perhaps he’d be able to have a quiet night later on. Once sated, Ultra Magnus tended to slip into recharge immediately, and Sentinel could leave the house without worries.

He finished rummaging through the ranks of panties, stockings and other lingerie items, including corsets and nighties, a more recent addition to the Magnus’ still growing collection. They felt so soft under his digits and against his plating, and… Ugh. Slag. The Magnus’ fascination with those lingerie things was starting to get contagious, he thought as he prepared what he wanted to wear.

He started with the stockings. He hated the things, trustfully, but Ultra Magnus loved them. After the stockings, he put on the garters -- and the garterbelt. All of them were in pink lace, something he knew would please the Magnus. After securing them, he picked up a pair of panties. He had hesitated for a long while, but in the end, he had chosen a pair of crotchless one, hiding almost nothing of his interface array.

A second ping warned him the Magnus was getting impatient, and Sentinel finished quickly. He didn’t bother with a corset or a ‘bra’, but instead selected a pink, short, sleeveless and semi translucent ‘baby-doll’ nightie that stopped just at his codpiece level. After taking a deep breath, he let his chestplates slide aside, revealing his Spark chamber. The nightie stopped anyone to get a good look, but the light of his Spark was easily noticeable among the soft pink veils. Finally, he grabbed a nurse headdress he put on with some reluctance.

He inspected his reflexion briefly in the tall mirror next to the closet even as he felt a third ping on his systems, grabbed the tray on which he had left the Magnus’ meds and hurried up toward the Master Berthroom.

“Well, finally,” the Magnus grumbled as the Minor opened the door. “You took your… sweet… time… Sentinel?” he said, blinking and looking at his lover and official Secretary with wide optics. Sentinel blushed under the attention and coughed, shuffling nervously in place. Ultra Magnus stared, then started to chuckle. “Why, hello, you naughty Nurse,” he purred, gesturing at the blue mech to come closer, devouring him with his optics. Nice. Very nice. He had started to get angry at the lack of quick response from Sentinel earlier, but if the former Prime had made such an effort to look nice for him… Hmm, that didn’t merit a punishment, but a reward. A very thorough reward, he decided as he noticed the telltale glow of an open Spark chamber. His spike was already pressurizing and his panel sliding aside.

Sentinel swallowed and tried to take a sultry voice. “I have your meds, Sir. Which one do you wish to take first?” he asked, trying not to look too much at his CO’s spike.

“Oh, I’m not sure,” the Magnus said pleasantly as he took Sentinel’s wrist and made the mech sit on the edge of the berth. “But I think I’ll need your care and attention for a while…”


	20. Kickass - Wetnurse Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Attempting to kidnap Swindle's Creation was pretty stupid... Or rather, being lecherous toward his wetnurse was, as a trio of wrongdoers discovered.

**Kickass - Wetnurse Woes AU**

If he managed to get out of here alive, Sentinel thought frantically, he was going to do two things. First off, he was going to yell at whoever thought sending him to work as a ‘wetnurse’ in Swindle’s mansion was a good idea. Second, he was going to ‘respectfully’ tell his employer to hire a freaking security service. Oh, and to check out if all his servants were as loyal as he thought.

There was no way those kidnappers -- because they were here to kidnap young Shylock, it was obvious -- had been able to enter the property without some inside help. Granted, Sentinel thought darkly as he backed off against a wall, holding Shylock securely against him, it might have been accidental complicity. Someone like Tailgate, who was rather naive about the true way the world was working, might have accidentally let something slip during what he thought was a nice conversation with a stranger.

Whatever. The results were the same. Sentinel, a Sparkling in his arms, was forced to back off from three threatening mechs who had every intention to take the Sparkling from him. That wouldn’t do at all! Shylock’s care and security was part of his mission here! No Sparkling, no reason for him to remain at Swindle and Smokescreen’s house! Not that he’d mind stopping playing wetnurse to the little greedy Sparkling, but if he ever wanted to make his way back into Autobot High Command’s favors… He couldn’t fail.

“Get away from us, you creeps,” he snarled, knowing that, with his new femme-like shell and his ‘uniform’, he looked nothing like the dangerous mech he knew he was.

One of the mechs blinked. “Wow, that’s a mech?” he asked in surprise. Sentinel’s cheeks flushed. His vocalizer had become higher pitched, but it was obvious when you heard his voice that he used to be a real mech before going through cosmetic changes.

“Who cares if it’s a mech or a femme?” the second goon grunted. “Just take that fragging Sparkling and let’s go!”

“Aww, but why not take the pretty mech too?” the third one whined. “I’m sure we could have lot of fun with him,” he said, winking. Sentinel twitched.

“Not to mention,” the first mech said carefully, “that none of us known how to take care of a Sparkling. It‘d be better to have his nanny under the hand to take care of… stuff,” he waved.

The second mech groaned, exasperate. “Alright, alright, bring that piece of aft if you want, but it’s on your helm,” he warned, going back to look in the corridor, checking out if the way was free. They had locked the rest of the servants downstairs, but judging by the noise they were making, they were about to break the door, and then they’d rush at them from the stairs.

“Yeah, yeah,” the first goon shrugged. “Come with me, sweetspark,” he cooed as he reached for Sentinel. His hand slided over the former Prime’s thigh and Sentinel just… cracked.

*-*-*-*-*

The Enforced blinked at he took the statement of the head of the Household. Ever since young Lord Smokescreen had come back on the planet, he never had to deal with the mech’s Bonded, Swindle, nor with any of the resident of their mansion. Until today, that’s it. And as he reread his notes, he couldn’t help but be grateful for it.

“So, let me resume. Learning that you had to go away for a business trip with your Bonded and part of your servants, leaving your young Creation home, a trio of ‘wrongdoers’ decided it was a golden opportunity for easy money. By means yet unknown, they learned of a way to enter the propriety, managed to enter the house, subdued the three remaining servants and locked them in the kitchen. Upon which, they made their way upstair toward your son’s nursery and tried to subdue his wetnurse, that they might have attempted kidnapping as well?”

Swindle nodded pleasantly. “That’s correct, Officer.”

The Enforcer coughed as he read the rest of the report. “Our trio of would-be-kidnapers then backed young Shylock’s wetnurse in a corner… upon which said wetnurse then promptly kicked their aft, to the point she send two of them in the ICU, and the third is going to have the processor ache of the vorn?” he asked in disbelief.

“‘He’,” Swindle corrected without stopping smiling. “Sentinel is a mech, despite his outer shell. And the processor ache, as you put it, isn’t his own doing; he only broke that mech’s left arm and broke his ankles. The processor ache comes from a frying pan hit dealt by one of our maids, Tailgate,” he said, gesturing toward a white and blue Minibot in the customary black dress and white apron of maids talking with another Enforcer. “When our servants broke the door to escape their imprisonment, he grabbed a pan to go and defend my son. I was told another of our maids, Rewind, grabbed a broom for the same purpose,” he continued in a light-hearted way.

The Enforcer blinked, working his jaw over until he could speak. “Right,” he finally said. “If I can speak frankly, Sir? You got one Pit of a wetnurse and bodyguard all rolled in one.”

Swindle chuckled. “Of course; why do you think I’ve hired him?”


	21. On the Beach - Mythology AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prime nymphs enjoy a day on the beach. Well, aside of Sentinel, of course. And it's not about to get better for him...

**On the Beath - Mythology AU**

“Oh, Sentinel, will you get out of water already?” Rodimus called out from his position on a large, flat rock. The red and yellow Nereid was lying on his belly, letting the fold of his white dress dry in the sun, chin in his hands as he watched his older sibling sulk in the water. “For once Sire allows us to come and play by the beach, you should take advantage of it.”

“He’s right, you know,” Optimus called out from his own position on the white sand shore, where he was helping their younger sister Override build a caste and decorate it with algae and shells. Some of their other siblings, like Big Bang, Nova, Zeta, Fire and Guardian, were walking around on the beach, pedes in the water and running and splashing each other with merriment.

All of them were Nereids or rather, Prime. They were the Creations of Prima, divinity of the Seas, and thus sea nymphs. They lived in and under the waves, in their Sire’s palace, and rarely did they get his permission to go to the surface. That made the more adventurous of them grumble, but Prima was inflexible. Sometimes, though, their Sire acquiesced to their requests and allowed them a day topside, to play on the shores as they wished.

Today was one of such days, and most of them were now here, playing on the sand or warming themselves to the sun. Most of them… except Sentinel, who was sulking for unknown reasons.

“I’m perfectly fine where I am,” the blue mech grumbled, though Rodimus noted he had already come closer to the beach, his pale blue dress billowing around him, floating in the water in a pretty corolla.

“Oh, stop being so grumpy, Sentinel. Just because Elita couldn’t come with us is no reason to be act so sour,” Optimus chided him, and Rodimus stifled a laugh as he saw Sentinel pout. Of course it was about Elita, he realized with amusement. Their half-sister, who was also Sentinel’s crush, hadn’t come along with the group as she hadn’t fell well in the morning, thus preferring to stay in her berth at the palace. Her absence obviously had turned Sentinel’s mood sour.

“Sentinel? You won’t come and play with me?” Override pouted, rising to her feet and looking at her big brother with big optics. Rodimus tried not to chuckle as Sentinel shuffled uneasily in the water.

“‘m not in the mood for playing,” the Prime nymph mumbled, though he did come closer to Override. With a mischievous smile, the little red femme run to him and snatched the pendant Sentinel had been wearing around his neck, holding it out and giggling as Sentinel sputtered and tried to get it back.

“Override! Give it back!” he snapped as the little femme run out of the water and he was forced to run after her. Slag it, that pendant was a gift from Elita, he wanted it back! Lifting the hem of his wet dress, he run as fast as he could behind his younger sister, calling out for her to give it back. Override just giggled and run faster along the beach, until they were very near the edge of the forest bordering the beach.

“Override! I won’t repeat it! Give it back!”

“Come and get it, brother,” the Youngling giggled as she threw the pendant toward the trees, where it fell behind a bush before speeding away. “At least now you’re out of the water!” She called out as she run to hide behind Optimus, still giggling.

Sentinel groaned and cursed her. Mischievous youngster, he thought uncharitably as he lifted his dress higher to walk carefully over the place his pendant had fallen. He really was going to give her a piece of his mind when…

“Looking for this, dearest?” someone purred next to him, and Sentinel startled as his pendant was waved before his face. From the shadow of the tree, a figure emerged. Sentinel blinked. A red and blue plating, long whiskers, goat-like tail and goat-like legs, and a loin cloth tied around the waist and hanging between his thighs, the stranger was smiling down at the nymph in a way that send shudders down the Prime’s back.

Oh frag! A satyr, he realized as he tried to back away! Satyrs loved to pursue nymphs and kidnap them to do them unspeakable things! They were a threat to a nymph’s purity! They were horribly lustful and unclean and horny and that old satyr’s loincloth was bulging in a way that made Sentinel scramble back and turn away quickly.

“Satyr!” He shouted in warning as he broke into a run, hearing the exclamations of his brothers and sisters as they too ran for the safety of the water. Sentinel tried to run as fast as he could, optics focused on the waves, but suddenly he sprawled with a yelp as he unexpectedly walked into a hole and his ankle turned. Pain shot through it and he desperately tried to get up and run again as his siblings cried for him to hurry up. Their cries changed into a general shout of horror as Sentinel felt hands over his waist, snatching him up even as he struggled and cursed.

“My, my, no need to be so vulgar, my pretty nymph,” the satyr said as he threw Sentinel over his shoulder, just chuckled as the Prime nymph started to hit his back with his fists. “Don’t worry, dearest. Alpha Trion is going to take good care of you,” he purred as he turned, walking toward the forest even as he fondled Sentinel’s aft through his dress.

“Sentinel!” the blue mech heard Optimus cry out, getting half out of the water, hand outstretched as if to grab him despite the distance.

“Go seek our Sire!” Sentinel shouted as he struggled harder. Optimus stayed frozen as if he was in shock, but several of their siblings were already diving under the waves, heading straight for the underwater palace and the protection of Prima. Sire would save him from the lecherous satyr, Sentinel thought desperately even as the satyr started to whistle merrily as they left the beach proper and headed between the trees. He had to…


	22. Turned-On - Myhtology AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The captured nymph Sentinel will not submit to the lecherous satyr's advances! Nope. He won't!  
> ...  
> He wasn't aroused, slag it!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The continuation of the previous ficlet; enjoy ;)

**Turned-On - Mythology AU**

A cup of high grade was placed near to his face, and Sentinel snarled and took a step back. “I won’t drink it!” he snapped again, trying to take yet another step back but finding himself unable to, his chains yanking him forward again.

Sitting in his throne -- which, to Sentinel who was used to the splendors of his Sire’s own, looked more like a wooden chair on which mechanimal pelts had been drapped for comfort -- Alpha Trion, satyr King, just chuckled at the nymph’s resistance, putting back the cup on the nearby small table. “A pity,” he said amiably. “It’s a great brew. The energon crystals were extracted from mines on my lands, and crushed and melted by my satyrs. A mouthful taste life the Well itself…”

The bound nymph just snarled and bared his dental plates, and Alpha Trion laughed merrily as he took his chin in one hand and, elbow pressing against the arm of his throne, he devoured the Prime with his optics. The Prime just huffed and turned his face away from him, glaring at a column and trying to be deaf to the sound of music and laughers as the satyr King’s retinue partied around them. He yanked again on the chain binding his hands together and to the throne, feeling irritated when once more they refused to give him any leeway.

“Come on, dearest, don’t be so sour,” Alpha Trion crooned, his hand brushing against the fold of the nymph’s dress. Sentinel just jumped back as much as the length of chain allowed him to.

Alpha Trion just grinned. His latest catch was as spirited as he was handsome, and had he been less of a gentlesatyr, he would have already torn up the Prime’s dress and had his ways with him. The nymph smelt like a virgin to his sensitive olfactive sensor, and every instincts he had urged him to bury himself into the blue mech’s sweet valve and mark him as his.

He fought them, though, for the nymph was a son of Prima, and the Sea God tended to be… twitchy about the safety of his offspring. Alpha’s ‘kingdom’ was far from the seas themselves, but some of his subjects and fellow satyrs littered the coasts, and if Prima was truly angry, the old satyr knew he wouldn’t hesitate drowning innocents.

Thankfully, he rarely left his palace, even for the sake of a kidnapped offspring. And besides… Alpha Trion lifted his gaze to the sky and smirked. The full moon was near again. In less than a seven solar cycles, then the pretty nymph known as Sentinel would have been his captive for a full orbital cycle. According to the ancient laws, Alpha Trion would then be fully and legally able to ask for the nymph’s hand… or to claim him as he wished.

His spike gave a throb behind his loincloth. Just seven solar cycles, and he’d be able to have some real fun. He couldn’t wait… though he gathered that his captive could wait for an eternity before giving himself in. Poor little thing wouldn’t allow Alpha Trion to touch him, to sniff him or to look at what was hidden under his dress. Like, oh, almost all the naive, innocents nymphs the satyrs ‘kidnapped’ and ‘deflowered’. Nymphs liked to tell each other horror stories about being spirited away by satyrs and centaurs alike, frightened by the mere idea the powerful mech would attempt to disrobe them and ‘steal away their purity’.

Their tales omitted just how many of these ‘spirited away’ nymphs became truly addicted to the carnal pleasures, changing from innocent little things to true minxes who wouldn’t stop riding their ‘captor’s’ spikes.

He wondered how long it would take before his catch became one as well. He fantasized about it already. There were so many pleasurable things he could teach that virginal nymph… but it would have to wait yet. In the meanwhile, he had other berth mates to satisfy his lust… and he had the pleasure of the optics as he watched his retinue dance and fool around with wanton nymphs and Maenads. He took a full cup and raised it high with a cry, giving the signal that most had been waiting for most of the party.

Despite himself, Sentinel couldn’t help but glance at the assembled satyrs and traitorous nymphs who wouldn’t help him escape Alpha Trion’s clutches as the music picked up, becoming louder and reaching a faster tempo, while weird noises started to be heard everywhere.

What he saw made him blush madly. What did these mechs thought they were doing?! This was… this was disgusting! These nymphs had their heads between satyr’s legs, taking their spikes in their mouths. Other nymphs had discarded any semblance of modesty, tearing up their dresses or dropping them off as they danced or… or straddled the satyr’s thighs with almost bestial screams. Eek! Was that femme taking three satyrs at once?! And the other one in the corner, she was on her hands and knees and… and taking it in the aft?!

Were they all mad?!

“Quite a spectacle, don’t you think, dearest?” Alpha Trion asked almost airily, leaning toward his captive, who startled.

“It’s disgusting! You won’t be making any of these… these awful acts with me!” Sentinel snapped, trying to ignore everything and failing miserably.

Alpha Trion didn’t answer, instead opting to watch out the show unfold even as he beckoned a maid to come closer to him. The Prime might have been protesting as much as he wanted, the satyr King’s olfactive sensor couldn’t be fooled. The smell of arousal, the arousal of the Prime nymph was heavy in the air. There was dampening between his captive’s thighs, and from the way he tried to discreetly gulp, he guessed that seeing interfacing in all its glory was affecting him more than he let on.

Nymphs… so easily turned on, he thought as he made the maid straddle his thighs and kissed her.


	23. Disheveled - Wetnurse Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shylock won't stop crying, to Sentinel's utter dismay...

“Waaaaaaaaaah!!! Waaaaaaaahhhh!!”

“Shush, calm down,” Sentinel groaned as he tried to -- ineffectively -- rock Shylock in his arms to calm him down. Honestly, he felt like crying. He didn’t know what was the problem with that Sparkling, but his young charge hadn’t stopped crying for what felt like megacycles. Actually, he might have been crying for megacycles already, the former Prime had no way to truly know. His chronometer had glitched when he had been forced to reboot early, startled by Shylock’s cries.

He rocked the Sparkling some more against him even as he paced the nursery endlessly. He was in a sorry state; his skirt was ruffled, his cape was badly buttoned, and his headdress was leaning to the side. His optics were starting to glitch from the tiredness he was feeling, and he thought he was going to stumble and fall if it continued like that. He had tried everything, and still the tan and blue Sparkling kept fussing. Sentinel had tried rocking him to recharge, he had sung him lullabies, he had tried to play with him, he had changed his nappies for a fresh one just in case, he had checked to see if perhaps the Sparkling’s systems were acting up, he had fed him a bottle of Sparkling-grade energon,...

And despite everything, Skylock just. Wouldn’t. Shut up.

“Please, please, please,” Sentinel begged. “Stop crying!” The Sparkling’s tiny optics focused on him, and Sentinel had the uncanny feeling that the little being was actually frowning at him, as if he was accusing him of being an idiot for having yet found what he wanted. “Can’t you just tell me what you want?” he begged again, as if the tiny Sparkling’s vocalizer had developed enough yet for him to speak. “You want another stuffed toy? The Petro-rabbit on the shelf? The Dynamo Duck by the berth? The giant Pneuma-Lion?” Shylock didn’t look convinced. “No, you don’t want a toy,” Sentinel guessed, sighing. Shylock started to pat the former chestplates with insistence. The former Prime twitched. “What, you’re hungry? You just drank a whole bottle, you can’t be! Besides, I don’t have any other ready yet.” Shylock just continued to pat at the closed chestplates harder, while crying in an even louder way. Sentinel winced; at this rate, his audios were going to short-circuit.

In desperation, he let them open, freeing his pouches and letting them fill with as much energon as he could. As by miracle, Shylock quieted down immediately, the crying being replaced by a happy squeal at the tiny ‘bot’s face latched at the closest nub he could attack.

Sentinel blinked. Fuel was getting out of his pouch, but nowhere near the amount Shylock usually suckled. It felt almost as if the little Sparkling wasn’t suckling out of hunger… but more out of comfort. He let himself fall in the closest seat he could reach, sighing and fighting off a wave of tiredness. He glanced down at the tan and blue Sparkling with a slight frown.

“Why do I feel you’ll be the biggest headache of my life?” he pondered aloud as the Sparkling suckled happily, deaf to the former Prime’s existential questions.


	24. On Vacation - AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trying to find Elita and Optimus in the jungle where savage tribes still roam was a bad idea...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I... don't exactly have a name for that AU. Still, I hope you'll like ;)

Pitpitpitpit!

If he ever managed to get back to Iacon, he was going to strangle Professor Ultra Magnus, Sentinel decided as he ducked under the low branches of a tree and tried not to get his pedes caught in a stray root. Behind him, the mighty roars of the primitive warriors he had stumbled upon seemed to get closer. Slag; he needed to hurry up and get the Pit away! He didn’t want to end up captured by those savages and… and sacrificed to some pagan deities like Optimus and Elita probably had been!

Vents overworking as he tried to run even faster -- it was impossible to transform to a proper vehicle mode in this jungle --, the young mech couldn’t help but think about the last couple of solar cycles. Or rather, about the last couple of orbital cycles, since it was when all that mess had started. Inscriptions in his chosen fields had been closed early on due to too many student signing in, and Sentinel, dejected, had been pondering what to do when Optimus and Elita had convinced him to join them into the Archeology, Anthropology and History Department.

On the paper, good. Sentinel had some credits already in history, although his chosen area had was more recent history than the distant past Optimus and Elita liked to learn about, and getting more would look good on his resume. Besides, it allowed him to spend more time with Elita -- and Optimus, of course, but mainly with Elita. The classes weren’t not so bad either, what’s with Professor Glyph who was nice to look at, and Professor Ultra Magnus, who made interesting courses.

Things had started to go sour when it had come to Sentinel’s attention that, to validate the course, the students registered in the Ancient Civilizations and Religions class needed to get ‘some actual experience’ by ‘participating to the University-funded digs’ across the planet. That hadn’t concern Sentinel himself who, like Optimus, was registered solely into Pre-Praxian Pax and Pre-Vosian Extension history. Elita, however, had taken ACR as an option and thus needed to find herself a dig to work on.

The yellow femme needed to go for at least six orbital cycles. Sentinel had frowned at that; it sounded like a lot, and he didn’t want to get his possible love interest away for so long. Optimus and Elita had cheered, though, trying to convince him the two mechs could join her on the site later, during their vacations. They could get extra credits by giving a hand and helping out on the dig, they had claimed. It’d be studious vacations, but vacations all the same, with the possibility to go explore various famous locations in between two major finds at the dig, doing some tourism and just enjoying themselves.

Elita had been quite enthusiastic about the project, finally convincing the reluctant Sentinel and, about four orbital things ago, she had left for a small, newly discovered Temple deep into the jungles of Archa. At first, she had send them news by holo-letters, but about three orbital cycles ago… she had stopped. Abruptly. Without an explanation. Not even her family had had news. Optimus, worried, had decided to go join another research team bound for the Temple about three decacycles ago, determined to find out what had happened to their friend.11

Sentinel would have joined him at the time, had he not failed an exam and be in need to retake it, thus delaying his own departure. He had felt slightly guilty and anxious over letting Optimus go alone, but had reasoned he just couldn’t fail his studies, even for Elita’s sake.

He should have listened to his instinct and never followed suit. Or wait until he had heard of Optimus, or come with an armed guard, because now he had found what had happened to Elita, and by extension, to Optimus.

The Temple the Uni had found wasn’t nearly as abandoned as they had first thought. Archa jungles were still home to a number of savage tribes who had and still refused to join the civilized world, hiding themselves in secluded valleys and corners, protected by the dense foliage of the jungles and by the wild cyberfauna. These tribes kept following obscure, mostly forgotten ‘religions’ that Optimus and Elita had been happy to discuss about at length -- especially the graphic details, such as sacrifices and whatsnot. Well, they most likely had gotten a close acquaintance with said religion, he thought desperately as, body overheating, he was forced to temporarily stop by a tree.

His friends had been ambushed and captured by those… those savage, beastly mechs pursuing him. They had come from nowhere as Sentinel reached the Temple and had immediately started to grab him. Sentinel had had no choice but to flee, and even not he was still fleeing, hoping against all hopes he could reach a safe place somewhere. His guide had run off into another direction, terrified, and the blue mech’s Spark was heavy with dread as he realized that, with all that running, he had no idea where he was.

Another roar, sounding closer still, made him startle and jump in fright. Optics darting right and left, panicked, he broke into a run again… only to slip over something. His body came tumbling down in the dense vegetation. Sentinel felt his helm hit something hard -- a rock? a stump? -- and then, everything went black.

*-*-*-*-*

“Him pretty little mech,” Grimlock, King of the Dinobots, mused as he watched their newest captive, bound with his wrist above his head to a stake in the middle of the village. The blue stranger was still unconscious, having hit his head against a rock as they closed on him, but the large mech thought he wouldn’t be long waking up now. Though he didn’t say so aloud, he was very impressed with how fast and far their prey had managed to run and evade them. Grimlock was King of the Dinobots because he was the strongest, the faster, the best hunter and the smartest of the the Dinobots -- even if he tended to make rash and quick decisions due to his temper.

By his side, Slag nodded. “Him acceptable,” he just said as he turned to inspect the other prisoner they had made today, a green and purple mech that seemed to hold the Triceratops’ interest. Gagged, red optics darting everywhere around him and shaking, the mech watched in panic as the tribe's members gathered around.

Grimlock didn’t see why Slag was interested; the mech had been caught easily, and he wasn’t anything special to look at, not like the little red and blue mech currently residing in their brother Swoop’s nest. Dainty little mech had tried to fight them and had dealt stunning blows to several members of their horde before being tied up and brought to the village. Swoop had fallen quite hard for the dainty little mech, carrying him to the nest he had build tall in the trees, and the night often resonated with the sounds of their mating. His brother was working hard on making an heir, and Grimlock could only approve. The tribe needed to grow in number, the sooner the better.

He glanced at Snarl and at his prize once more. Tss. Next to him and to the blue stranger, Slag’s catch was nothing. He was no serious challenge, he wasn’t even that nice looking. He didn’t seem to have much traits that could be passed down to its offsprings to further better the Dinobots lineage. Not like the pretty blue mech, Grimlock thought as he sniffed their captive carefully. Hmm, he smelled nice… Good smell, agreeable face, hips shaped for mating, quick and strong enough to evade a troop of Dinobots running after him on their own territory. His Sire had always told him he needed someone special in order to mate and breed strong, powerful heirs for the tribe. The stranger was certainly special enough, the T-rex Dinobot mused. He’d make a good Sparkling bearer.

Nodding in satisfaction, Grimlock took his decision. The Goddess Spider had returned to them a few lunar cycles ago, thus bringing good fortune to the tribe. She now resided in the sacred grottoes above the village, watching over them. She was going to come when the night fell to visit her faithful followers. More than one union blessing would be celebrated tonight, for several of his brothers and sisters Dinobots had decided now was time to mate and make heirs.

The wise, pretty Goddess had allowed Swoop to keep his catch -- and had even known him, it seemed -- and blessed their mating. Surely, she would do the same for the King of the tribe. Grimlock purred. He couldn’t wait to be tonight already...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you wonder, Slag caught Scrapper. ;)


	25. On His Knees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damn those tentacles-filled freaks!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas everyone!

If circumstances had been differents, Sentinel Prime would have made a speech -- something moving and perhaps dramatic-sounding, underlining the pride of the Cybertronians in general and the Autobots in particular, something straight out of the old holovids Optimus loved to watch or the old, dusty adventure datapads he used to as a Sparkling. He would have cursed his captors and stated that, despite having being captured, the Prime would not surrender. It would have be utterly heroic, and femmes dug heroes; he would have had many things to tell back home.

Sadly, it was hard to make any kind of speech when you were being dragged forward by slimy tentacles pulling on your wrists restrains -- which looked like big gold bracelet linked by a few chain links; Sentinel had tried to break them by force, only to find out they were far more sturdy than their deceptive look suggested -- and you couldn’t, well, say anything else but ‘yes, Master’ or ‘no, Master’.

Slagging ribbon device… thing, the Prime mentally snarled as he was forced to climb the few steps leading to a dais. He didn’t know what that thing was exactly, or how it worked -- he wasn’t a scientist, after all -- but ever since they had tied it around his neck, he hadn’t been able to say anything but those words. He guessed there was something inherent to the device that was affecting his vocalizer, though how was a mystery. As it was, he had a bow and a small bell tied around his neck, and he wanted them off! Sadly, he hadn’t had an occasion yet, what’s with Quintessons tying his hands and making sure he couldn’t take off the stupid ribbon or the stupid veil they had put over the lower half of his face, starting with his olfactive sensor, or the even stupider fabric creation he thought were called ‘harem pants’.

He wouldn’t speak about the insane amount of jewelry they had put on him either. Belt of gold pieces, necklaces of beads and gemstones, rings,... It made a lot of noise when the Prime walked, and he winced, knowing that even if he managed to make a run for it, he would never manage to stay inconspicuous with such ringing at his every step.

He tried once more to drag his pedes down and buck, but the Quintesson holding his chains just pulled harder, making him follow him without problems.

Sentinel glared at the tentacled freak with all his might. Those squids had attacked a few settlements near the borders and Sentinel had been sent with a team to investigate and bring relief efforts to the raids’ survivors. As they had neared one of the space ports, the Elite Guard ship had come under attack, and the crew, Sentinel included had been captured. Some kind of paralyzing, knock-out gas had been diffused in the ship, going through their vents before they had had the time to close them or find a countermeasure. One moment Sentinel was on the bridge giving order and the next, he was waking up with a headache on a very hot planet he supposed was Quintessa itself, with those tentacles-filled slaggers leaning over him and apparently checking him over.

He shuddered at the thought of what those organic freaks might have done to him while he was unconscious. Quints were… well-known for some their strange interest in mechs and femmes, especially those coming from Cybertron itself. Which made their attacks on the colonies near their border all the more worrisome, but…

“Ah, Amh-Al-Badur,” one Quintesson clicked as he approached Sentinel’s jailer/whatever he was. “Is it the last one?”

The Quint dragging Sentinel, now identified as Amh-Al-Badur, nodded. “Yes, Karrish. I trust everything is ready for the auctions?”

Sentinel twitched. Auctions? Were those fraggers planning to… to sell him?! No way! He yanked back on the chains, trying to break the Quintesson’s hold, but all he managed to do was to stumble and almost fall on his aft, drawing the attention of the two Quints on him.

“A feisty one, I take?” Karrishr asked. He started to turn around Sentinel, examining him with a thoughtful look.

“Very much so,” the other Quintesson nodded. “I think we’ll need your Allicons to hold him in place.”

“Is that so? I admit, I’m curious. I’d like to see what’s under that veil,” he said as one tentacle reached for the square of fabric hiding most of the Prime’s face, only to have it swatted away by the other Quintesson.

“Only once the auction starts,” the Quintesson said forcefully. “That’s the rule. You want to make an offer, you’ll make it with everyone else, proprietor of the dais and auctioneer or not,” he warned. “It’s my right as the vendor.”

“You didn’t need to hit so strongly,” Karrish said as he rubbed two tentacles together to sooth the ache, grumping. Very well, I’ll wait. Though I’m curious; at how much do you want to start the auction for him?”

“I was thinking, about 500,000 qiliks,” Amh-Al-Badur said thoughtfully even as Sentinel twitched and Karrish clicked in agitation. “After all, I can attest he’s a pretty one -- not that you’ll see it until the auction proper -- but he’s also young and untouched.”

“That’s thievery!” Karrish said, obviously put out by the high amount of money asked. “There are few clients who will even be willing to…”

“It’s a quality good,” the other Quintesson cut in, “and quality has a price. Someone wanting a pretty pet to tame himself or herself won’t mind spending so much, trust me,” he said confidently. “I already had a few slaves sold for near 1,000,000 qiliks, I know what I’m talking about. This one, however,” he said as a tentacle came to nudge Sentinel’s hip, to the Prime’s revulsion, “I think I can sell for more. He’ll be a sumptuous addition to any harem he’ll end in.”

“Hmph,” Karrish grumbled, seeming to mull it over. “Well, I guess so long I get my commission, I don’t have to worry, do I? Well, time to have him ready for the auction. Allicons!” he called out, and several ugly looking creatures came out from being curtains. The merchant made a gesture and said something in a language Sentinel didn’t understood, and the ugly things turned toward him, walking over and grabbing him by the shoulders before lifting him from the ground with surprising ease.

Sentinel cried out and started to try and kick them, though the burly mechs didn’t seem to even feel it. They didn’t even twitch. The Prime was carried out past a large curtain, and his optics widened at what he saw. Several mechs and a few femmes were tied up in a row near the edge of the dais, kneeling to the floor with their wrists tied up to two posts, forcing their hands up and leaving them defenceless. Each wore the same attire as Sentinel, those harem pants-thingy, jewelry and veil obscuring their face, leaving only their forehead and optics visible.

Some looked at him as he was brought him, and he recognized some of his crew’s members -- that one femme, he had seen on the ship serving as a mechanist, and the mech next to her was a maintenance technician. The other mechs may have been colonists marked as MIA. There also were a few Decepticons among the captive, he noted as he was carried to the last free spot, at the end of the row, seeing the glaring purple brand on their chest.

The frag were those Quintessons playing at?! Sentinel fought as much as he could as the chain linking his cuffs was broken -- how had they managed to, when he himself hadn’t been able to pull them apart?! -- and his wrists were pinned to the posts, even as he was pushed down, his knees forcefully and firmly bend until he was resting in the same position as the other captives. The Prime’s cheeks burned behind his veil; nobody had ever forced him to his knees before, no Autobot and certainly no Decepticons. He was seething with rage that the tentacled freaks had dared to do so. Sentinel Prime knelt to no one!

… Except perhaps Ultra Magnus.

Amh-Al-Badur and Karrish watched the process with attention, nodding to themselves. “Good, good. He’ll be the last sold,” Amh-Al-Badur said. “I trust that true connoisseurs will wait for the later lots to make offers, and I want them satisfied. All information you need about him to make the offers rise are here,” he said as he handed a datapad to Karrish, who accepted it with a nod. He then peered at Sentinel. “You’ll stay quiet and nice during the auction, won’t you, pet?

Sentinel opened his mouth, wanting to scream at him to his Spark content. Instead, he could only grouchily pronounce the words: “Yes, Master.”


	26. Well Shagged - Undercover Woes AU

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard to think and get angry sometimes, especially when the oaf he's officially Bonded to keep fragging him like he does...

Bulkhead, Sentinel decided dazedly as he felt his ‘Conjunx’ stiff, thick spike press between his thigh as he gathered his skirts around him and straddled the green mech’s laps, had far too much stamina for his own right. The silly-grinning mech helped him to comfortably settle down, the tip of his spike already nudging apart the lips of Sentinel’s valve and the hem of the lace crotchless panties the Prime had chosen to wear today.

Someday, Sentinel wondered why he bothered with the stupid things. It wasn’t as if they served any real purpose, he thought as Bulkhead gently helped him sink down on his spike, steadying him as he moaned helplessly, body sagging from both pleasure and tiredness. How many times had they interfaced today alone? He didn’t know anymore. A lot, he decided, struggling to recall exactly.

There had been the ‘good morning, my Love’ thing -- and it was very, very weird to have the oaf called him ‘Love’, though Sentinel didn’t mind nearly as much as he had the first time Bulkhead had sleepily called him that. The Prime supposed he was starting to get used to it all -- which raised even more weird personal questions.

At any rate, morning interfacing was part of the routine now. They did it it at least once upon waking up every solar cycle. This morning hadn’t been any different. So, once. Sentinel then had had to go and check over the Twins -- Vanguard and Crusader, not Jetfire and Jetstorm -- and feed them the ‘natural’ way before preparing the older residents of the farm their breakfast. At which point the Jet twins had come down and decided to take over, ushering him out of the kitchen -- and straight into Bulkhead’s arms, who apparently was having a very ‘hard’ morning and had carried him over to the nearest couch so they could resume their earlier activities. Twice, and breakfast hadn’t even been served. If Vanguard hadn’t started fussing and crying for attention from his Carrier and Sentinel hadn’t used him and his brother as a ‘shield’ to hide behind, then the Prime suspected he would have spend the whole breakfast into the oaf’s laps as well.

Fast forward to lunch; Bulkhead had come back from the fields in an excellent mood -- and still ‘enamored’. Cue more interfacing, face down on the kitchen’s table while Sentinel tried not to knock over anything and gripping the edge of the table with all his might to stop his shaking as he was fragged long and sweet twice more before he ‘cleaned up the mess’ with his glossa.

Early afternoon; he had brought a basket of goodies to Bulkhead, as the oaf had forgotten to take his snacks with him before leaving. Cue Bulkhead deciding that since Sentinel was here, they could cuddle. Besides, as he had said cheekily before burying his head between the Prime’s thighs to tease him, there was only one treat he wanted right now.

And now, late afternoon, Ratchet and Optimus and Nightglow and Farrier as well as Arcee and Moonracer would decide to visit, of course, which lead to an impromptu reunion and more interfacing as the Conjunx chatted around the living room’s table, Enduras too busy riding or sucking on their spikes to participate much to the conversation.

Sentinel was too dazed, too tired and too full to even care about what they were talking about -- the Space Bridge maintenance, the Jettwins’ education, the coming new harvest, it mattered little. Funny; no matter how sore he felt, or how tired he was, he never refused Bulkhead’s advances. Sure, he protested them at times, but… When was the last time he had truly objected to a shag? With a startle, Sentinel realized he couldn’t even remember.

This place, he decided as he groaned, Bulkhead’s spike hitting one particularly sensitive bundle of sensors, was affecting him more than he had realized. And not just him, if he had to guess by the fact Optimus had dropped everything to move here, and by the fact Jazz was shamelessly flirting with that other Cyber-Ninja.

At this point, the blue mech was even too tired to even wonder how an old model as the cranky Bonded of Optimus could keep up with the younger ‘bots in the interfacing frenzy most mechs living on Agri III seemed to be caught in. With a groan, he leaned against Bulkhead, hiding his face against the crook of the green mech’s shoulder.

A large hand gently patted him, even as the ‘bots around continued to chat. What was that? Oh, Optimus was Carrying? How nice for him, Sentinel thought. Speaking of, he realized as his body rocked with each of Bulkhead’s thrusts, he’d have to get himself checked soon for possible virus. His systems had been sluggish for a couple of solar cycles now, and his olfactive sensors had started acting up again. Kinda like when he had discovered he had been…

Oh.

He was Carrying again, wasn’t he?

… He’d freak out and try to kill Bulkhead and castrate him later, Sentinel decided with a moan. For now, he was just going to let himself enjoy the motions and the frag. Like every solar cycle.


	27. Horny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Letting your drink without surveillance can be dangerous, Sentinel; 'thankfully', Megatron is here to make sure nothing 'bad' happen to you...

“It is most imprudent, little Prime, to let your drink without any surveillance,” the rough but cultured voice whispered above Sentinel. Hands were touching him everywhere, petting, stroking, caressing, digging into seams and brushing with feather-like touches against his plating. “You can never know how many devious ‘bots are running around, drugging unsuspecting mechs to… take advantage of their sudden willingness.”

The Prime moaned, his body on fire, hips bucking as he searched for more contact, more touch, more… more of everything. Liquid fire was coursing through his lines, pooling between his legs, right at the apex of his thighs. Fluid was dripping from his valve, staining his otherwise pristine thighs, coating them with a generous layer of moisture. Drops of pre-transfluid were running all the way down his hard, pressurized length. Sentinel’s shaking hands were stroking and squeezing his spike to try and reach sweet release, but his efforts didn’t seem to truly register on his far-too-aroused body. His valve was throbbing in want and need, and Sentinel could only moan louder as he tried to use his own fingers to relieve himself, with as little success as his ministrations on his spike had. He rolled on the berth he had been placed on, burying his face into a plush pillow to avoid groaning. His Spark felt swollen and heavy, fluctuating in its casing, as if it wanted to get out. His whole body was driving him crazy, and he didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to last before eventually giving in.

Rolling again to lay on his back, one blue optic crackled online to glare at the dark form leaning over him, watching him with keen interest. Red optics shone brightly, even as large hands cupped the Prime’ face. The smirk on the larger mech’s face made Sentinel want to punch him -- and Leader of the Decepticons or not, he would have tried to if his body hadn’t felt as weak as a cyberkitten’s own. Another wave of heat rushed through him and his hips bucked again, involuntarily as it was.

“Sla… Slagger,” he managed to articulate, working his lips and resisting the temptation to lunge forward to kiss Megatron. “All… all your fault,” he groaned. “You… you did that to me…”

“Actually, I did not, little Prime,” the large mech said. “If anything, I saved you. I was not the one who slipped you what appear to be a most potent aphrodisiac. That dubious honor belong to the Quintesson Emirate you rejected earlier. I trust you remember him?”

A flash of memory went through the Prime’s CPU. Ultra Magnus’ face as he gave him a mission. He himself traveling at that business mogul’s house to try and legally buy the right to exploit a new mine of Cybertronium on an asteroid belt situation in a corner of disputed space between the Autobot Commonwealth and the Quintesson Pan Galactic Co-Prosperity Sphere. The presence of several Ambassador from various planets non-affiliated with either side and wanting said right. The mogul throwing an impromptu party. The shock of coming face-to-face with Megatron in a corridor, the Decepticons trying too to obtain the right to the mines. The realization he couldn’t fight him, for Megatron was a guest.

The insistent Quintesson who had followed Sentinel around part of the evening to try and chat with him, despite Sentinel’s not-so-subtle hints he wanted to be left alone. Managing to ditch the mech… And then his body starting to burn from the inside out, only for large hands to grab him and carry him away bridal-style with a booming laugh.

Sentinel desperately wanted to shoot Megatron was lying, but… he couldn’t forget the way the Quint had been following him, and the way he had watched him.

He shuddered, moaning as he felt more heat pooling in his valve. Primus, it was becoming unbearable!

“I could help you reach your release, little Prime,” the Warlord rumbled pleasantly, still cupping Sentinel’s face. The Prime glared and turned his head away -- as much as he could, anyway. Megatron just smiled. “So you say now. But I have the feeling that before the end of the night, you will sing quite a different tune, Autobot. Quintessonian aphrodisiacs don’t burn out of the body by themselves, after all,” he mentioned nonchalantly.

He released Sentinel’s face and the Prime curled upon himself, hands still going over himself in an attempt to find release, any release he could. He wouldn’t give in to the Decepticon. He wouldn’t!

“Such a stubborn ‘bot. If I was a less patient mech, or as diabolical as your propaganda suggest, I would have left you in the clutches of that Quintesson, as repulsive as the idea is.” Oh, even ‘Cons found the tentacled freaks disgusting? Good to know, Sentinel managed to think. “I’m not, however, and since I… saved you, I now have some responsibility toward you.” His weight made the mattress sink. “Be assured that I won’t be going anywhere. Should you change your mind, little Prime, just let me know. I’ll make a pleasure to help your burn that excess of energy,” he purred.

Sentinel just keened louder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just one more, ladies and gents. ;)


	28. Happy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sentinel wakes up...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... here we are, people. The very last chapter of '28 Woes'. I hope you enjoyed the ride as long as it lasted.  
> And, without further delay, here's the last chapter: Happy.

Sentinel woke up and sat in a startle, a scream on his lips that, thankfully, didn’t escape him as he stood shaking in the dark. His vents worked hard to calm his quickly overheating frame.

“Sentinel?” a sleepy voice asked him, and there was movement at his side. Blue optics peered at him, still only half-powered as small yellow hands squeezed his in a strong grasp. “What’s wrong?”

“Elita,” he breathed deeply as he recognized her, shoulders sagging in relief. Of course it was Elita; who else could that be. He glanced to his other side, unsurprised to see Optimus curled there, still deep in recharge. Once asleep, their fellow Cadet could sleep through an explosion, in contrast to Elita who could wake up upon hearing the slightest noise. The three of them tended to all recharge together, pressed against each others. It wasn’t, strictly speaking, allowed by the Academy’s rules, but there was nothing against it either, or so Elita had pointed out as she had pushed her berth next to Sentinel’s own and invited Optimus to join in.

Of course he’d wake up her without meaning to, Sentinel grimaced. She was so going to kick his aft first thing in the morning at training to have ‘interrupted her beauty sleep’. “Ah… it’s nothing,” he said, trying to dismiss the whole thing.

The femme snorted and poked at him. “‘Nothing’ my sweet yellow aft,” she said dryly. “Say it. Bad memory flux?” Her tone was gentle, her optics held gentleness and a point of worry, and Sentinel sighed, nodding only once. The femme patted him gently. “Want to talk about it?”

“Actually, I… don’t remember exactly what it was all about,” Sentinel said sheepishly, and Elita raised an optics ridge. “I really don’t,” he defended himself. It was true; his memory fluxes tended to be confused things he could barely track of, even less so remember once his processor rebooted properly. The blue cadet had natural systems troubles when it came to defrag, and too complicate the matter, some of his data collectors had been damaged during a training exercise a few orbital cycles ago, further muddling the process. Recharge often tended to become chaotic for him, making him more snappish and prone to anger as he lacked the rest he truly needed.

Optimus and Elita never seemed to hold it against him when he screamed at them, though, for which he was grateful. The whole recharging together thing? Sentinel knew it was their way to try and comfort him when he woke after a nightmarish flux. Well, Elita’s way anyway; Optimus might have been trying too, but given how hard it was for him to wake up, he was rather useless about it.

“I… I just remember…” he trailed off, not knowing how to describe the feeling of dread, helplessness and anger he had felt in his dream. Whatever he might have dreamed about, it mustn’t have been pretty. Optimus might have been right; he shouldn’t have tried some of those ‘mystery cocktails’ at Maccadam’s.

Elita, comforting, put a finger over his lips, shushing him. “It’s okay; you don’t have to say anything, Sentinel.” The other Cadet just smiled at her gratefully. “That said, we still got a few hours left until our designated wake-up time, and I intend to fully enjoy them, understood, Mister?” she poked at Sentinel’s chest, and the mech chuckled.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Sorry to have woken you up,” he added as he laid back down and Elita imitated him, snuggling into his side.

“Try not to make it too much of a habit,” she just commented as she was starting to power down her systems. “Oh, and Sentinel? Just for that, I truly hope that ‘surprise’ you’re preparing us is worth it. Because if it’s not, next time, you’re recharging on the floor.”

Sentinel blinked before chuckling. Oh, right. His surprise. Well, to make it up to Elita, he guessed he should advance the date. They had a day off tomorrow; he could always borrow a ship tonight for... 

He paused as an arm snaked around his waist. Turning his head, he looked into Optimus’ pale, barely powered optics. The other Cadet smiled at him a little, pressing against his back, and Sentinel relaxed. Oh. Did he had woke up Optimus too, finally? His friend didn’t say anything, just tightened the hold he had around his waist and powered his systems down again even as he snuggled.

Sentinel grinned in the darkness as he too started to initiate his recharge cycle. Could life get better? Here he was, held and loved by the two most important individuals in his life, the femme of his dreams and his best friend/sometimes rival, happy and content, promised with them to a fantastic future. Someday, he knew it, he’d be the Magnus, Optimus could be his Second and Head of the Elite Guard, and Elita could take over the Science Ministry. The three of them would bring Cybertron into its more glorious age, he just knew it.

In the meanwhile, though, they were still Cadets, and they were still allowed to have some fun -- or to go exploring and perhaps bring themselves honor and recognition. Yeah. He’d get to reserve a ship tomorrow at the first free moment he had, and the three of them would be off for the Archa system.

As he entered recharge, his last coherent thought was wondering how surprised his friends would be once he’d told them he had found the trace of an old Decepticon ship, still full of energon...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, yeah, I know. The end makes it bittersweet happy, as in one of the last true moment were Sentinel might have been truly content. But what can I say? The idea wouldn't leave me alone!  
> That said...  
> I hope you had a good time, and see you around for more TF (and Sentinel) fics. :)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Rite](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3546665) by [Bunsuu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunsuu/pseuds/Bunsuu)




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